


Sans Serif

by TheRedWulf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Arson, Art, Attempted Murder, Boss/Employee Relationship, Business, Corporate Espionage, Dysfunctional Family, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Designers, Heartbreak, Jaimsa, Lust, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Really Fucked Up Starks, Rough Sex, Smut, Wildling Man-Friend, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 122,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which the Young Lion meets his match...Picset is viewableHERESpoilers beforeCh.9,Ch.16,Ch.24andCh.28,Epilogue
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Sansa Stark, Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 1750
Kudos: 712





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dmchnknst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmchnknst/gifts).

> I received a request back in September (ack, so long ago already) from 'dmchnknst' for a business competitor Jaimsa, complete with banter. And this is the beginning...
> 
> Braime shippers might not care for this piece. So...heads up.
> 
> For the 500th time I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors. :D :P
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“Who did this?” Jaime sighed, laying the designs out on the conference table. 

“Errm” Podrick paused, leaning forward to check the name at the paper’s corner. “Stark, sir.”

“Stark, of course” Jaime shook his head, this ‘Stark’ had been a pain in his ass since they started submitting layouts to him a few months ago. “You know what, bring me Stark.”

“S-sir?” 

“Stark” Jaime repeated. “Bring me Stark.” 

Podrick gave a reluctant nod and vanished from Jaime’s office. He stared down at the designs for several moments before moving to the sideboard and pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. 

For nearly ten years he had worked at Casterly Designs, the last four of which were spent heading up the marketing team that specializes in high fashion and bridal couture. He hadn’t expected to enjoy his position at the company his father had founded, but now that he wasn’t stuck in the business end of things, he loved every minute of it. 

Design and marketing was fast-paced, competitive and cutthroat, perfect for his sharp Lannister sensibilities. His younger brother, Tyrion, had moved into the position of CFO, thus allowing Jaime to stay in the art department. 

Jaime knew, given his own limitations, that the business and finance end of things would never work for him. Letters and numbers often didn’t make sense to his eyes, instead preferring to see in color and imagery. 

That, of course, was his secret, one that he would carry to his grave. Which is why he needed to tread carefully around this new 'Stark' person, as they seemed to love the use of typography in their designs. 

High heels sounded in the hall and he turned to watch the tall redhead as she leaned against his office door jam. 

“Well now” he smirked, his eyes raking over her. From the fire-red of her hair to the grey blouse and crisp black pencil skirt, to her long, stocking-clad legs and the impossibly high heels she wore. “What can I do for you, darling?” 

“Darling?” she smirked, crossing her arms under full breasts. 

“Well, I can certainly call you any other name you desire” he turned to fully face her, sipping his coffee as he openly admired her legs. 

“Oh?” she prompted. 

“Sweetheart?”

“Too saccharine.” 

“Dearest?” 

“Too Jane Austen.”

“Sugar ti--”

“How about ‘Stark’,” she cut him off and he froze. 

“What?” 

“Stark. Sansa Stark, technically, but Stark nonetheless” she moved away from the door and crossed to the conference table where she tapped a manicured fingernail over the designs. “Stark.” 

“Fuck” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry---”

“No, you’re not” she chuckled. “You were honest. I can’t fault you for that.” 

“It was not appropriate--”

“Like I give a rat’s ass about appropriate” she shook her head. “I would rather you be honest than anything else. Besides, now that we’ve gotten the sexual tension addressed, we can move on and you can tell me why you’re constantly shitting on my designs.” 

He stood frozen, watching her for several seconds before his brain finally caught up to what she had said, “Miss. Stark--”

“Sansa, please, why stand on formality now?” she countered. 

“Fuck” he repeated, muttering as he ran his hands over his face now, setting his coffee aside. He was clearly out of his depth. He had expected ‘Stark’ to be some short, possibly balding man and not the siren that stood in his office now. 

Sure, she was young, but she oozed confidence and there was no denying that he was attracted to her. 

Very attracted to her. 

Shit. 

Double shit. 

“Well?” she prompted, her eyes raking over him like a bold lover before they moved back to the conference table where the designs lay. “The Tyrell layouts?” 

“Right” he cleared his throat and moved to the table, a safe distance between them. “Can you explain to me why you disregarded the color palette? The fonts?”

“Because it was dated and it was shit” she replied simply. “Since we’re now friends here, I can tell you honestly that letting that old woman pick the color palette will always be a mistake.”

“Did you...did you just call Olenna Tyrell ‘that old woman’?” he did his best to hold back his laughter. 

“Yes, I did” she continued. “She still wears ‘White Diamonds’ and white gloves, she wouldn't know ‘on trend’ if it bit her in the ass. She chose a palette for winter release, a _warm palette_ and that doesn’t work with this typography.”

“So you just threw it away?” 

“Yes.” 

“And when she gets upset?” 

“She won’t even notice” Sansa countered. “I was friends with her granddaughter, Margaery, in college. Olenna doesn’t have the best memory, she just has a nasty bark. She won’t remember what she so insistently wanted. Even she has her limitations and she knows them.” 

Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle at her confidence---no, at her cocky overconfidence that reminded her so much of himself. She was beautiful and she knew it, but she also seemed to be in possession of a sharp mind and keen eye for design. He was beginning to regret having called for her...

“As for the fonts--the typography is readable to anyone under the age of ‘ancient’ and it's eye catching” she gave a small shrug, turning to lean against the table. 

Jaime did his best to ignore the way her ass looked perched on the table, as this was not the time to wonder what it would be like to push that pencil skirt to her hips and have his way with her without ever removing her clothing, and looked back to the layouts. He tried to focus on the design and look, but he was still struggling with the typography and wondered if that was because his brain simply hated words. 

Sansa had a point, the colors and look were on trend and the layouts were clean. They just...weren’t what Olenna had asked for. Shifting the papers he looked at the layouts below it, the ones that followed her instructions to a ‘T’ and beside Sansa’s they simply looked dull. There was only one way to solve this, he decided. 

Looking to Sansa he smiled, “Care for a wager?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“I want you there in the meeting tomorrow.” Jaime said. “We show them both. She picks your layouts, I’ll promote you to 'Senior Designer'.” 

“And if she picks the tragedies?” she asked, uncrossing her arms. 

Jaime glanced to where her hand landed on the edge of the table beside his. His pinky twitched with the ache to reach out, to close the distance and at last touch her. Gods, he was going to need a very long lunch break after this.

“She picks these” he touched the ‘tragedies’ that Olenna had asked for. “I take you to dinner.” 

“Dinner or ‘dinner and wanna come up for a nightcap’?” she smirked, rising to her full height. 

Were he a lesser man, he would have been intimidated by the tall beauty, but he shifted to his full Lannister height, half a head taller than her and watched her as she stepped closer, leaving barely a gap between them. 

“Dinner” he tilted his head, watching as she looked up at him. “Nightcap’s on you.” 

“Deal” she raised a brow. “And Jaime? I’d like a sans serif font on my new ‘senior designer’ cards, if you could be a darling and arrange that for me?” she patted his chest, her hand lingering a second longer than appropriate but then she whirled away, leaving behind a floral scent and a very frustrated Jaime Lannister. 

“Fuck” he smiled, a true smile, as he found himself looking forward to tomorrow’s meeting. “Fuck me sideways.”

“Sansa, you’re stunning, as always” Olenna Tyrell greeted her, cupping Sansa’s cheek with a gloved hand as Sansa leaned down to kiss the older woman’s cheek. 

“It is lovely to see you, Olenna” Sansa replied, smiling over the woman’s shoulder at Jaime who looked just as delicious as always. 

“I am so glad to see you working on this, finally a capable artist” Olenna smiled. “You know, I still have your painting hanging in the foyer.”

“Still?” Sansa smiled. “Well, you certainly got your money’s worth out of it then!” she said and Olenna laughed. 

“Art is an investment, dearest, I have always told you this” Olenna said before making her way to the chair her assistant held out in waiting. 

Sansa saw Jaime pulling out a chair for her and she smiled at the ‘Young Lion’ as she moved to his side, “Jaime” she said softly. “Are my new cards ready?” 

“Have to win first, _dearest_” he leaned close as he helped her to her chair and she couldn’t help but smile. 

She had noticed Jaime Lannister on her first day At Casterly nearly three years ago. A corpse would have noticed Jaime Lannister, so it was no surprise that she had. She had been a junior designer, fresh out of art school with bright eyes about the future of art. 

The life of a junior designer, however, was more about production and grunt work than anything else. She was a slave to the graphic and senior designers, grabbing coffee and printouts, and she worked her ass off to simply not get fired, let alone promoted. 

But somehow, by the skin of her teeth, she made it through probation and after a full year, she was promoted to a full-fledged ‘Graphic Designer’ and given the pay raise it brought with it, which more than helped her stay afloat in Lannisport.

She loved her job and she loved working in marketing. Working at Casterly was a pipe dream for most designers and she was finally able to stretch her creative muscles. 

Sansa knew that being promoted to ‘senior designer’ was far off, given that there are currently only 3 in the company, Jaime Lannister, Brienne Tarth and Bronn Black. ‘The Three Musketeers’ the juniors called them, and they were awe inspiring to watch. Though, technically, Jaime was the director of marketing, he did a lot more than just boss people around. Or so she was told.

Jaime Lannister was the son and heir apparent to the entire Casterly fortune, his sister was working in women's couture and fashion, and his brother was happily married and working as CFO behind the scenes. In fact, she had never seen his brother in person and she assumed that it had something to do with his condition.

Jaime was tall, golden and incredibly handsome, something she had noticed the first time that she laid eyes on him nearly two years ago. That was, of course, the first time she saw him in person. She had seen him in print hundreds of times but the reality of Jaime Lannister was far more powerful than any photo could capture.

_ “Here they come!” Jeyne, another junior design whispered fiercely as she ducked into Sansa’s cubicle. _

_ “What? Who?” Sansa peeked into the hall, gasping as the three tall figures rounded the corner. “Oh!”_

_ “He’s just so dreamy” Jeyne sighed, her eyes locked on Bronn, who was always at the top of Jeyne’s romantic wish list._

_ Sansa gave a vague nod, but her eyes were glued to the man in the middle. Clad in a deep grey three-piece suit, his golden hair falling over his forehead in such an unspeakably perfect way, even his stubble of a beard was perfect._

_ He walked with the confidence of a man who ran the world, and he did, for all intents and purposes, run her world. Everything at Casterly went across either his or his father’s desk. Everything. Jaime was the driving force behind all the marketing and their upscale clients, and he was a shark when it came to closing deals._

_ Every junior designer on this floor dreamed of creating something that would catch Jaime Lannister’s praise. He was the man they all sought to appease and yet he rarely made an appearance down here with the ‘peons’._

_ Sansa heard Jeyne sigh as Bronn and the others passed and she couldn’t help but giggle at the sound. Jeyne was well and truly gone for the older, crude Irishman._

_ The sound of her giggle, however, caught their attention and Jaime turned to look at her, his emerald eyes blazing through hers as she held his gaze. While she watched, he smirked and ran a hand through his hair before returning to his walk with the others. _

_ The junior designers watched as the Three Musketeers vanished into the conference room at the end of the hall, all of them taking a collective breath as the door shut. _

_ “Bronn is just….ugh” Jeyne collapsed into the vacant chair in Sansa’s cubicle and Sansa shook her head._

_ “If you want to get his attention, Jeyne” Sansa gave a shrug. “Ignore him.”_

_ “Are you crazy?” Jeyne laughed. “No, you have to be a siren! You have to lure them in and trap them!”_

_ “Trap them” Sansa laughed, turning back to her computer and the mess of fonts on the screen. “Why would you ever want to trap a lion?”_

“Now then, thank you all for coming today” Sansa was surprised when Bronn began and Jaime took the open chair beside her. “Mrs. Tyrell, we have a few concepts to present to you today, but we’ll do so quickly since we know your time is money.” 

She watched from the corner of her eye as Jaime crossed a long leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee. The action put his foot dangerously close to where her leg was, as she had crossed them as she sat down. Sneaky lion. 

“Why waste my time? Show me Sansa’s” Olenna cut him off and Sansa raised a hand to cover her laughter. She looked to Jaime who merely looked unamused, a single brow raised in challenge. 

Accepted, you arrogant bastard, Sansa thought. 

“Olenna,” Sansa turned to the older woman. “I asked them not to tell you which is which, as I want to see which design you’ll pick.” 

Olenna watched her closely for a moment and then laughed softly, “You think I won’t know your work, darling? Alright, alright, go on, Brom.” 

“Bronn--Right, yes” Bronn glanced to Jaime and proceeded with his pitch, showing both digital layouts and physical printouts to Olenna and her assistant. 

Sansa sat, quiet and observing as the Three Musketeers worked in tandem, all of them a well oiled machine and not a single one of them holding Olenna’s attention. She admired Brienne’s statement of facts, Bronn’s flair for painting a verbal picture of grand advertisements and Jaime’s charm, they were all damned good at what they did. 

But in this case, they didn’t know their audience. 

Olenna had made herself into a very wealthy woman with her jewelry designs and collections, but she never knew how to market them. It was, perhaps, a bit of a cheat, Sansa having such insight into Olenna’s mind. But she was going to do what she had to impress her bosses and get ahead. 

Though, in Jaime’s case, she suspected all she had to do was show some leg and he would fall at her feet. 

Once again she raised a hand to hide her smile and this time Jaime caught her, taking note of the action. She held his eyes as Brienne spoke, and when she lowered her hand it was to tap on a business card sitting on the table. 

Jaime’s eyes narrowed and he gave the smallest shake of his head. At least he was going to go down swinging, she could give him credit for that. She could think of another way she would like him to go down… 

“Sansa?” Olenna leaned closer, speaking softly to her. 

“Hmm?” Sansa turned to smile at her. 

“Don’t think I haven’t figured you out, dearest” Olenna chuckled. “I expect a full update at lunch next week.” 

“Of course, Olenna” Sansa nodded, knowing that she had plans to meet with Marg anyway, and they could just invite Olenna along. 

Olenna gave a nod and turned back to the presentation, “I would like to go with the Winter Wonders theme, its delightful and exactly what I had in mind.” 

“Of course” Bronn gave a political smile and Sansa did her best to hide her smile. 

“Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Tyrell” Jaime stood, taking Olenna’s hand and escorting her from the room. 

Sansa sat for several moments before she stood, slipping her papers into her folio. She hadn’t cheated, but she certainly knew that there was no way the dated pitch with 'fugly' colors was going to work. Not even if Olenna hand-picked them herself. 

Sansa finished her coffee, turning to toss the cup into the bin when Jaime appeared in the doorway. 

“Did you cheat?” 

“Excuse me?” she retorted, glaring at him. 

"You had to have told her” Jaime moved into the conference room, closing the door behind himself. Sansa was now hyper aware that they were in a windowless room together. Both with their hackles up. 

“I did not, thank you for your faith in my integrity” she countered, watching him stalk around the room. This man was a predator, there was no way around that, and in this moment, she was his prey. 

“That woman is a shrew” Jaime said. “And yet in your hand, she’s a puppy.” 

“Maybe you just don’t know how to use your hands properly,” she said before she could stop herself, his large form rounding the conference table. 

“Now that is something that I have never been accused of before” he smirked. 

“I am sure they were too busy basking in awe of the Young Lion who deigned to pay attention to them to notice that you have no idea what you’re doing” she met his unspoken challenge. 

“Oh?” he moved closer and soon he was close enough for her to feel the heat from his body. “And are you in awe, Stark?” 

“Do I look like I am in awe?” she fixed him with a bored expression, tossing her folio onto the table and it landed with a resounding slap. 

“You look positively bored” he moved closer. “And sexier than any woman should be allowed to be” he said and before she could gasp, his arm had banded around her waist and his lips met hers in a brutal, claiming kiss. 

He gave her no quarter, parting her lips easily to delve his tongue inside. She felt herself begin to melt against him, but when he shifted closer and she felt the length of his arousal settle against her she jolted back to reality. 

Raising her hands to his chest, she pushed him back, their kiss breaking on his startled expression and she tried to catch her breath as she stared up at him. Jaime remained silent, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip as he watched her intently. 

Seconds passed and she stood poised, ready to fight or flee at the slightest movement. When she caught her breath, her mind racing, she felt herself crash into the literal moment of ‘fuck it’ and her hand was moving before she could stop it. 

Jaime could hardly think, his mind racing and trying to figure out how he was going to get out of this royal fuck up. How the hell was he going to explain to his father that, yeah Sansa Stark’s lawsuit was right, he had accosted her. He had thrown himself at her like a fool. 

He was about to step back when her hand wrapped around his tie and pulled him back into her arms. 

_Fuck_ he devoured her mouth with everything he had. Nothing in this life felt the way Sansa did in his arms. Her tall, slender frame fitted against him perfectly and she gave as good as she got, her lips teasing his as he slid his hands into her hair. 

Today she wore a white blouse and high waisted black slacks, he found that he missed her pencil skirt. It would be much easier to lift the fabric away and sink into her until he could breathe again. 

Since their talk yesterday, his mind had done nothing but think of Sansa Stark. Everything about her from her beauty to her powerful presence and the snark in her tone. She was a smart woman and he found himself anxious to see if her theory proved correct. 

Today, she had dragged him through the mud, though no one else in the room knew it, Sansa had handed him his hat. So much so that he, for a moment, thought that Olenna must have been in on it. 

But no, Sansa _knew_ the client and knew what she would want. Sansa was damned good at her job. Even if it meant throwing his designs under the bus to prove it. Fuck it, he didn’t give a damned about the hideous designs. 

What he did care about was in his arms, mewling softly against his lips as he backed her into the wall beside the presentation screen. 

His hands moved from her hair to her ass, lifting her against him as he pressed her into the wall. He swallowed her cry of surprise as her fingernails dug into his scalp and neck, holding on to him like an anchor. 

“Fuck” she hissed softly as he bit the tender flesh of her neck, just below the line of her collar. Her sharp word, no matter how quietly whispered, seemed to remind them where they were and that now was certainly not the time for this. 

No matter how badly they both wanted this. 

"Tonight, 7pm?” he still held her to the wall, her body trembling and warm against his own. 

“But Jaime,” she smirked, trailing the pad of her index finger across his swollen lips. “You lost.” 

“Fuck that” he shook his head, his body holding hers trapped. “Dinner---have dinner with me?” 

She was quiet for several seconds before her tongue darted across where her fingers had just been, teasing his lips, “Let me think about it.” 

“Think about---fuck” he stepped back as the door to the conference room opened to reveal the tall, blonde form of Brienne Tarth. _Anyone but her_ he sighed internally. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this room was _occupied_” the woman watched them with wide eyes, her eyes following him as he moved away from Sansa, doing his best to conceal the state of arousal that Brienne had found them in. 

“I was just leaving” Sansa said, her tone flippant but breathless and Jaime knew that he had gotten to her, that she was just as affected as he was. Sansa moved from the wall, grabbing her folio from the table and striding from the room without so much as a backward glance. 

Jaime sighed, running his hands through his hair as he tried to get his body under control. When he felt presentable, he faced Brienne who was still watching him intently. 

“Jaime” Brienne spoke, her tone full of scold and chastisement. “Her? Really?” 

“What?” Jaime asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion. 

“She’s nothing but a decoration” Brienne shook her head, grabbing the papers she had left behind on the conference table. 

“What?” 

“She’s a dime a dozen” Brienne said, turning away. 

“That’s unfair” Jaime replied, glaring at Brienne’s back. "You don't know her." 

“I don't need to. She is just like every other girl, she’ll use you to get ahead” Brienne replied, pausing at the door. 

“There are no women like her--just her” Jaime replied. 

“You say that now” Brienne said. “But I know you, Jaime. In two weeks it will be someone else.” 

"And you expect me to cast them aside and run to you?” he glared, his temper flared by his friend’s--his colleague's unfair judgements. 

Brienne was silent for several moments, her bright blue eyes full of sadness, an emotion she brushed aside before she spoke, “She’s like all the rest. Pretty, but vacant. Just...be careful Jaime. Be careful.” 

“I am” he glared, brushing passed her and into the hall. He didn’t look back, not giving a shit if Brienne followed or not. His body was still spun up from Sansa’s touch---from her kiss and the gentle sounds that she made. 

__

__

No, he stormed into the staircase, too angry to wait for the elevator. Sansa wasn’t like the others, not a single bit. She was different. She was real. 

And he was determined to have her. 

He had just reached his office when his phone chimed and he looked down to see a text message from an unrecognized number. 

_I’ve thought about it_ the first message read. 

Jaime watched in rapt fascination as the next message appeared, _And I’d still like a sans serif font, dearest _ he laughed as he read it to himself. He waited as the next message loaded and then he laughed aloud, relief coursing through him as he read it. 

_7pm tonight. 1060 West Addison._

Jaime locked his phone with a smile that hurt his cheeks. Fucking minx, he laughed, moving behind his desk to get back to work. Gods, he couldn’t wait. 


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love you gave the first chapter! I am so glad you're digging it so far! 
> 
> Let's face it, this chapter is just...smut.

Sansa tucked her phone away and sat behind her desk, crossing a long leg over the other as she logged back into her computer. 

Senior Designer, she smiled to herself. Finally, after all the hard work and long hours, finally she was moving up. Of course, the idea of starting an affair--she wouldn’t go so far as to call it a relationship, she knew how Jaime Lannister operated--with Jaime was even more exciting than the promotion. 

She knew that he wouldn’t stick around for long, he never did according to office gossip, but she intended to enjoy him while she could. It had been years since she had been able to enjoy not only a conversation with a man of equal wit, but also enjoy the feel and taste of him. Physical attraction had always felt hollow to her without the mental sparring and verbal foreplay.

Her last relationship had been several years ago with a man named Petyr, and much like Jaime Lannister, he was older than her as well. Petyr was a philosophy professor at Vale University, and his mind was sharper than even the finest blade. He was, however, too smart for his own good and overconfident to boot. He had gotten clumsy with his dalliances and when Sansa caught him with one of his students, she didn’t stick around to hear him try to talk his way out of it. 

She had moved to Lannisport shortly after and focused on making her career dreams a reality. 

And now, she had. 

A knock at the door had her looking up into the bright blue eyes of Brienne Tarth. Sansa glanced to her clock, seeing that it only took twelve minutes for the blonde woman to find her. Longer than she anticipated, but still, this visit wasn’t unexpected. 

“Miss. Stark” Brienne said coolly. 

“Please” Sansa stood and rounded the desk, offering her hand. “Call me Sansa, we’re going to be working closely together now.” 

“Indeed” Brienne shook her hand, knowing it would be rude to refuse. “I suppose I should congratulate you on your promotion.” 

“That’s not necessary” Sansa gave a small wave of dismissal. “I am just excited to be working closely with you all.”

“I am sure” Brienne nodded, glancing around the office. Sansa had been in this office for a year now, and sparsely decorated it with a few photos and knick-knacks, but overall it was clean and organized. 

“Brienne” Sansa said when the blonde woman seemed to be overthinking her words. “Just say it. We’re both grown women here.” 

“Be careful with him” Brienne said. “With Jaime.” 

“Careful” Sansa repeated, crossing her arms. 

“He doesn’t do 'relationships' and I would hate for your career to come to an abrupt end because---” 

“What makes you think I want a relationship?” Sansa narrowed her eyes. “And if it affects my career, it is because of my choices. I work hard, Brienne, very hard, and I think I can keep my work and private lives separate.” 

“That didn’t look separated in the conference room” Brienne countered. 

“You’re in love with him” Sansa said before she could stop herself and Brienne abruptly stiffened, standing rigid and tall as a blush spread across her cheeks.

“No, I simply care about him--about his well-being” Brienne lied, and not smoothly. 

“I am not here to steal your job and I am not going to take his friendship away from you, Brienne. Despite what you seem to think of me, I am not a malicious woman and I am certainly not a whore” Sansa reasoned. “And I--”

“Have a good day, Miss. Stark” Brienne turned on her heel and strode back through the door, leaving Sansa standing in the middle of her office wondering exactly what she was getting herself into. 

While she wasn’t sure about what the future held, she was quite sure that she had to watch herself around Brienne Tarth.

Jaime laughed as he exited the cab, shaking his head as he stared up at the imposing sight of the Lannisport baseball stadium. The digital marquee sign blinked between advertisements for upcoming events, the bright ads almost taunting him.

“1060 West Addison” he chuckled to himself. She had lured him to the fucking baseball stadium. His body, strung tight as a bowstring since their kiss in the conference room earlier, shook with laughter as he ran a hand through his hair. 

She’d played him---

“Hey stud. Come here often?” the familiar voice came from behind him and he turned to see her, still clad in her work clothes, leaning against the light post. She had put on a dark pea coat and her purse was hooked over her forearm, making her look every inch the polished professional. 

“For a moment there, I thought you had tricked me” he smirked, sidling closer. 

“The best italian food in town is across the street, of course I tricked you” she nodded to a brightly lit pizzeria across the way and he smiled. 

“Fine dining, I see” he replied. “Is this your attempt at seducing me?”

“Don’t be a snob, Lannister” she moved away from the light post and closer to him. In the lights of the stadium and the street, her bright blue eyes seemed to glitter with mischief. “When is the last time you had great, mind-blowing _pizza_?” she asked. 

“Years” he replied. 

“Then you’re not living” she held out her hand and he looked at the empty palm in confusion. “Are my new business cards ready?” she teased. "I'll take them now." 

“You’re going to enjoy busting my balls, aren’t you, Stark?”

“Me? Never” she gave a feigned gasp. “Besides, I thought the idea was for me to bust your balls in a different--”

Jaime chuckled and in a flash, grabbed her hand to pull her closer, no longer able to resist the urge to kiss her. She gasped in surprise, but held tightly to him as he devoured her mouth. He picked up where they had left off in the conference table earlier when they were interrupted. He turned her and backed her into the light post, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her purse banging against his back. 

His hands slid into her jacket and around her waist, before lowering to grab her ass, rocking her against him as his tongue tangled with hers. He could kiss her forever, put that sharp tongue of hers to better work, more pleasurable work. 

The loud blare of a car honking as it drove by forced them apart, both of them breathing heavily as they stared at each other in the street light. He'd forgotten they were in public. Very public.

“Well” her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip, a lip now swollen from his attention and a bit red from his beard. Good, he thought to himself, she bore a little mark of his possession, showing the world that she was his. “Hungry?” she asked. 

“Starved” he whispered. 

“For pizza, Jaime, not pussy” she raised a brow. 

“Why not both?” 

“Because there are likely children in that pizzeria,” she laughed softly. “Pizza first…” 

“Pizza first” he repeated dumbly. “Do you have anywhere to be tomorrow?” 

“Not to my knowledge” she replied. 

“Or Sunday?” 

“No.” 

“Good” he leaned down to give her a brief, lingering kiss before stepping back. Her hand slid into his and together they made their way across the street and into the noisy pizzeria. 

After ordering a huge pizza and a pitcher of beer, they found an open booth in the back corner and settled in. Sansa Stark seemed to be full of surprises, he realized as he watched her. This was not a place that he had expected her to take him, that was true. But he couldn’t argue that the pepperoni pizza was fantastic and the beer icy-cold. 

Not only was the food great, but he was quickly learning that Sansa was both incredibly intelligent and in possession of a quick wit and dark sense of humor. She had shrugged out of her jacked and rolled her sleeves up, encouraging him to do the same and when their pizza arrived, they dug in. 

Most women in his social circles, including his last few affairs, were so concerned about appearances and calories that he rarely saw them eat. But not Sansa, she didn’t give a damn. She poured them both a pint of ice cold beer and they ate like teenagers, giggling and sharing stories in that corner booth. 

The sexual tension never left them. It always seemed to simmer right below the surface, bubbling through their conversation with double entendres and flirty comments, but he found it remarkably easy to have a real conversation with her. To talk with her about anything that came to mind. 

He was nearly finished with his second slice when he felt her bare foot travel up his inner thigh. He choked and laughed, her smirk dangerous as she stopped her foot just short of where he wanted it. Just short of any sort of relief…

“I am curious about something,” she said, grabbing another slice. 

“Oh?” 

“Are you in marketing because you’re dyslexic or because you can’t stand the business side of it?” she asked plainly and he froze. 

“What?” 

“I am not going to tell anyone, Jaime” she said, her tone softer and sincere. “I doubt anyone would even notice, but I know the signs. My little brother, Rickon, has dyslexia and it was a bit tricky getting him to settle down in school. He didn’t understand things and he would lash out.” 

“Sansa…” he gave a small shake of his head and set his pizza slice back on the plate. 

“I promise you” she reached out to cover his hand with her own. “I am not going to tell anyone. I just want to know, both because I want to know _you_ and I also want to know why you continue to shit on any design layout with heavy typography.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, both in relief that she wouldn’t tell anyone and at the shock of being laid so bare before someone he hardly knew. She saw right through him, and it was disconcerting.

“As far as I am aware, my father and brother are the only ones who know” he explained. “My father is the one who taught me to read when the teachers gave up. Tyrion runs the business end because his brain is far sharper than my own.” 

“You are by no means a dullard, Jaime” Sansa interjected, shaking her head. “Your brain processes differently, that’s all. It doesn’t make you any less of a person or a professional. Being able to overcome it and succeed as you have is impressive and a testament to your perseverance.”

“Careful Stark, you almost sound as if you actually like me” he picked up his pizza to take another bite. 

“Why on earth would I do something ridiculous as that?” she chided, raising her own slice with a devious smirk. Several minutes passed as they ate, exchanging glances even as her toes flexed against his inner thigh. “A lighter question then” she broke the silence. “Tarth, she possessive because you broke her heart or because you won’t?” 

“Because I won’t, I suppose” he sighed. “I’ve worked with Brienne a long time, she is a good designer…” he trailed off. 

When Brienne had first come to work with him, it didn’t take long for him to realize that she was harboring something of a ‘crush’ on him. He’d thought that it would go away over time, but soon she became protective and possessive, always finding a way to slip in a comment regarding his personal life. 

He felt badly about it, since he couldn’t return her affection beyond the bounds of friendship, but it had, of late, put a strain on their working relationship. Even before she saw him with Sansa today, the strain had been building. 

“Is it going to be a problem? Me working with you both and us sleeping together?” 

Jaime leaned back in the booth and raised a brow, “We haven’t slept together.” 

“Not yet” she countered smoothly. 

“You said possessive” Jaime mused. “She come to your office?” 

Sansa gave a small shrug. “She’s worried I’ll break your heart” she smirked. 

Jaime leaned closer, “Are you going to?” 

“Just don’t fall in love with me, Lannister, you’ll be fine” she glanced at her watch. “Now, its nearly nine pm on a Friday night. Do you want to sit here and talk about Tarth, or pack of the rest of this massive pizza and walk three blocks north?” 

Jaime found the dangerous smirk on her full lips more enticing that he should, and he vaguely thought that that smirk would be the death of him. 

“What’s three blocks north?” 

“My apartment.” 

“Three blocks north it is.” 

“Fuck” Sansa gasped, the sound of her purse and the pizza box hitting the hardwood floor of her entry way barely registered in her mind as Jaime grabbed her and pinned her to the wall beside the door. 

His lips were on hers, just as they had been against the light post, and she was trapped against the long, broad frame of him. If she had to be trapped, it might as well be in such a delicious prison. 

She kicked off her high heels as Jaime’s tongue burrowed into her mouth, the spice of the pizza sauce and the lingering taste of their shared beer filling her senses. He pushed her jacket away before shedding his own, tossing them somewhere behind him before returning his lips to hers.

“Gods” Jaime’s hands were frantic as they tugged and pulled at her shirt, and when his frustration consumed him, he ripped the fabric apart, the tinkling of buttons bouncing off the wall and floor reaching her ears. 

“I liked that shirt” she smirked, her hands carding into his hair and dragging against his scalp. 

“Fuck the shirt” he countered, nuzzling her breasts through the material of her ivory bra. She cried out as his teeth found a hardened nipple and teased her. “You are never allowed to wear slacks again” she hadn’t even felt him working her belt until her slacks pooled at her feet. 

He lifted her against the wall, her legs wrapping around him to steady herself. He ground the hard length of his cock against her, both of them sighing in pleasure. The thin material of her panties, now soaked nad likely ruined, did nothing to dull the feel of him pressed against her. 

“Just because you fuck me, doesn’t mean you control my wardrobe” she worked his tie loose and tossed it away. 

“If you wear a skirt, it would be all the more easy for me to lift it and fuck you anywhere I please” he explained as she unbuttoned his shirt. 

“Is that so?” she smirked. 

“Like your desk” he slipped a bra strap from her shoulder and tugged the fabric aside to suckle her bare breasts. “My desk” he licked a trail from one breast to the other. “I’d even take you on my father’s desk if I had the chance.” 

“Jaime” she panted, her head lolling back to bump against the wall. “Just shut up and fuck me.” 

Jaime laughed, that deep throaty sound that she already found she rather liked, as she reached between them to undo his belt. 

She felt like a siren, her shirt bunched at her elbows, bra pulled aside and panties soaked. Jaime was just as frantic as she was, his hands shoving his slacks away the moment they were loose, the long length of his cock spilling free. 

“Oh fuck” she mewled at the sight of it, proudly reaching for her. It appeared that Jaime Lannister was no slouch in the cock department. “Condom-- fuck, please tell me you have one close by.”

“Yeah--yeah” Jaime fumbled with the slacks bunched around his waist and she helped him pull his wallet free, relief coursing through her at the foil packet. 

“Thank the Gods” she laughed breathlessly as Jaime covered himself. 

“Sansa” Jaime smirked, his emerald eyes dark as they met hers. 

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and let me fuck you” he whispered as he moved her panties to the side and sank into her without preamble. 

“Fuck” she sobbed in pleasure, Jaime’s body filling her completely, pinning her to the wall. She barely registered his growl as he claimed her mouth, kissing her deeply as he roughly fucked her. 

She could only hold on to his shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist with the help of his hands that had a bruising grip on her ass. Nothing in her life had ever felt as good as Jaime did, all of their banter and verbal foreplay leading to the most incredible feeling in the world. 

“So fucking good” Jaime growled against her mouth, biting her lower lip as his hips pistoned against hers. 

“Yes” she panted, “Oh fuck--fuck” she cried out as his cock scraped against that spot inside that that had her seeing stars. 

“Yeah? You gonna fucking cum for me” he whispered as he sped his hips. 

“Jaime, fuck!”

“Gods, I can feel you, you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you” he goaded her on and she lost control of her body. All she could do was hold onto Jaime as it crashed over her, tearing through her like a violent tidal wave. Through it, she could hear his deep voice whispering filthy nothings, encouraging her and drawing out her pleasure as he fucked her hard and deep. 

“Fuck” she sobbed. 

“I can’t feel my legs” he chuckled, glancing behind him briefly before he carried her towards the couch and sat on the cushions, keeping her astride his lap. 

“Mmm” she sighed, the new position bringing him snug against her and she rocked her hips, her inner muscles still fluttering from her orgasm. 

“Best seat in the house” Jaime’s hands smoothed up her back, helping her to rid herself of her ruined dress shirt. Her hands settled on the back of the couch behind him, holding her at the perfect angle.

“Indeed it is” she moved slowly, holding him deep within her as she ground against his lap. 

Like this, she could admire him. The solid muscle of his chest and stomach, the way the golden hair on his chest matched the hair on his head, and the sinful way he looked with his hair a mess, shirt wide open and slacks and underwear around his ankles. 

A testament to how desperate they were for each other, she supposed. 

“Gods you’re beautiful” Jaime’s voice was tinged with awe as he watched her, his hands wandering her body, as if to memorize her. 

“Flattery will get you _everywhere_, Lannister” she smirked, unable to resist teasing him, even now.

“It just so happens, Stark, I am exactly where I want to be” he cupped her breasts, rolling the peaked between his fingers. “Stomach full of delicious food, a beautiful--if smart mouthed, woman on my lap” he leaned closer to take one of her nipples into his mouth. 

“Fuck” she arched against him, hands sinking into his hair and holding tightly. 

“Now” he said when he pulled back, his hands moving hers to his shoulders before he grabbed her hips. “Ride me like you mean it, Stark.” 

He helped her to move up and down, sliding him nearly all the way out of her core before sinking back onto him, over and over. 

“Jaime--fuck” she moaned mindlessly as his hips began to rise to meet hers. 

“Come on, Stark, show me you want it” he said darkly. 

“I do” she whimpered, her breasts bouncing with each hard thrust. “I want it, please...please…” 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up” he groaned and the sound shot through her, sending her brain into overdrive. 

She fixed him with a smirk, watching his expression of determination and pleasure. When his head began to loll back, she reached out and took his chin, guiding her eyes back to hers and holding him. 

“Don’t you look away Lannister” she leaned forward a bit, riding him hard and fast now. “You’re going to watch me cum...” 

“Stark…”

“Lannister” she gasped as his hand connected with her ass, the slap echoing in the room and the sting travelling up her spine. 

Jaime didn’t speak, but instead his hands grabbed her ass, holding her in place as he fucked into her from below. Her cries were incoherent now, body racing towards its second peak as Jaime growled and grunted under her. 

When it crested, she screamed out, the sound harsh and broken as she trembled violently. She felt her walls clamp around his thick cock, his movements never slowing as her body milked his. She forced her eyes, finding Jaime’s eyes still on her, darker than ever. 

“You’re gorgeous when you cum” he loosened his grip on her ass, if slightly, and helped her to ride him. “Now make me cum…I’m right fucking there...” 

“Jaime” she whispered, the action unexpected as she leaned forward to kiss him softly. She moved her hips slowly, grinding against him before rising back up to repeat the action. “You gonna cum for me baby” she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. “You want to give me that fucking cum” she kissed him briefly before moving to pull his ear lobe into her mouth, gently biting the soft flesh. 

His groan filled her ear and she couldn’t help but smile. She sped her hips as she held his earlobe in her mouth, riding him with abandon now. 

“Fuck” she heard him curse as his arms wrapped around her back, surprisingly tight, and he buried his face in her hair. A moment later, she felt his body shake and heard his broken gasp as he came. She felt him pulsing inside of her, the barrier of latex dulling everything but she savoured the feeling of Jaime Lannister losing control inside of her. 

She slowed her hips to a stop and gently kissed the soft skin of his neck, just below his ear, before pulling back enough to kiss his lax lips. 

“Good boy” she whispered and he gave a sharp chuckle.

“Fuck, Stark” he kissed her softly. “I think you’ve killed me.” 

“But what a way to go” she replied and he laughed again, the action jostling his body free of hers and she felt oddly bereft without him inside of her. 

Jaime raised a hand, smoothing her hair from her face, “Next time we may actually get our clothes off.” 

“Speaking of, you owe me a shirt.” 

“You can have mine,” he shrugged. 

“Sure, I’ll just wear that to work on Monday” she rested her forehead against his. “Shower?” 

“Shower” he agreed, glancing to the forgotten pizza box on the entryway floor. “And then some more of that, worked up an appetite.” 

“Why do you think I ordered an extra large for two people?” she smirked, her laughter filling the apartment as he slapped her ass once more. 

“Vixen.”


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the Great Lion we all know and love...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all x1,000,000 for your love and support on this one! :)

Jaime came awake slowly, vaguely aware of the weight on his chest and the smell of coffee in the air. But it was the feeling of a hot mouth wrapped around his cock that pulled him into wakefulness. The room was still mostly dark, only a little light peeking in from the curtains and he was simultaneously surprised and impressed that his cock was hard again after the night they had.

He’d never, in his near-forty years, spent an entire night lost in passionate abandon. The moment they had reached her apartment, they had fallen on each other and hadn’t stopped until exhaustion set in and dragged them both into slumber. The entryway, the couch, the shower, the kitchen, the bedroom--

“Fuck” he groaned, his eyes blinking open to see Sansa looking up at him, one hand and her mouth around his cock, the other hand holding a half-eaten slice of cold pizza. “I’ll take that” he reached down to grab the pizza and she released him with a ‘pop’. 

“That’s mine, Lannister” she smirked as he took a bite. She absently stroked him, her grip firm and smooth. 

“Trade?” he raised a brow, taking another bite. 

“Fine” she licked him from the base to the tip and he nearly choked on the food in his mouth. “That slice for this cock.” 

“Done” he agreed and she pulled him back into her mouth, her red hair spilling across his thighs in a wave of fire. Jaime squirmed against the pillows as she sucked him deeply into her wet heat, her tongue dancing around the head of his cock with each pass. Gods, she drove him wild, both with that sharp wit of hers and that fantastic tongue-- “Fuck!”

“Don’t you dare come” she released him but her hand kept its slow, firm pace on his shaft. “Not yet.”

“Who knew you were so bossy” he took another bite of the pizza and held it out for her to take the last bit. She crawled up his body as she chewed, producing another condom from Gods know where and sliding it over his overly-sensitive length. 

“You already knew I was bossy” she rubbed him against her folds. “I think you like it that way” she aligned him to her channel and sank onto him. 

“Damned right I do” he ran his hands over her thighs and hips, holding her tightly to him.

He’d spent more time inside of her than out, since they’d finished dinner, and he still hadn’t had enough of her. He admired her as she rode him, taking her pleasure languidly from his body, her hands braced on his chest. Her makeup was gone, her hair a tangled mess from their shower and yet she was still absolutely breathtaking. Gods, had he ever seen a woman as beautiful as she was as her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing ragged as she gasped and mewled. No, no he hadn’t. 

Her hips faltered and he quickly sat up, adjusting their position so he could wrap his arms around her and keep her on his lap. Her arms went around his shoulders and she leaned down to kiss him, an unhurried, deep sort of kiss that shot through his bloodstream. 

They were pressed together, chest to chest, her legs around him, and not a speck of dust could have come between them. He could not tell where he ended and she began and he would not have it any other way. 

Their mouths parted as she moved her hips, her pants echoing across his lips. 

“Jaime” she whispered, her hands tunneling into his hair. It was longer than he’d ever kept it before, but the way her hands felt tangled in it made him glad that he hadn’t cut it. “Jaime…”

He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with Sansa waking him up with a blow job and the way she felt wrapped around him. His hands moved to her hips, gripping tight and helping her to ride him fast and hard. He savoured every one of her whimpers and cries, drinking them in like a man starved. 

When she came, he felt her body tremble around his, felt her breathing catch and he couldn’t have looked away for the world. His body followed her lead, his body shaking as he poured into the condom, cursing the latex for dulling the feel of her heat around him. 

Their eyes stayed locked, their breathing shared and Jaime knew, deep in his gut, that something had already changed between them. Somewhere between the office banter and the solitude of her bedroom, something had burrowed its way into their chests. Or, at the very least, his chest.

“Stop thinking so hard” Sansa whispered with a smirk and he laughed softly, running his hands over her back. 

“Currently, I can hardly think at all” he quipped as she ran her hands through his hair, smoothing the locks back. 

“Good” she gave him a brief kiss. “Cause we have a problem.” 

“Problem?”

“We’re out of pizza.” 

“That _is_ a problem” he agreed. 

“You traded your cock for the last half-slice.” 

“A fair bargain, I think.” 

“I do think I came out on top in that trade” she kissed the tip of his nose. 

“I would be inclined to agree” he laughed, rolling her to the side and kissing her deeply. “What do you think about Meereenese take out?” 

“You buying?” 

“Yeah.”

“Then I love it.” 

Sansa watched Jaime from the corner of her eye, unable to stop the smile from forming on her lips as he battled with a container of unruly noodles. Early Saturday afternoon they’d ordered enough Meereenese take out to feed an army and have been feasting on it since. 

Neither of them wanted to speak of it, but she knew that in a few hours, Jaime would have to return to his apartment to prepare for work tomorrow. She shouldn’t be saddened by that, he had been in her bed since Friday night, but still, she was rather enjoying their weekend in seclusion. 

“Open” Jaime said and she obeyed, tilting her head and opening her mouth so he could feed her a pile of noodles. She laughed as she chewed, his boyish smile was too much. “Pay the fee” he smirked as he stole a kiss, his ‘fee’ he had negotiated when he fed her the first time yesterday afternoon. 

She had been pleasantly surprised to learn that Jaime Lannister--the real Jaime Lannister was a smart-assed, charming and all-around pleasant man to be around. She hadn’t anticipated they’d spend the entire weekend together, but in reality it has flown by in a flash of naked bodies and post-orgasmic haze. 

“Open” Jaime fed her a second forkful of food before taking the container from her hands and feeding himself. 

“How am I ever going to go back to feeding myself,” she teased. 

“Not sure” he scooted closer on the couch and she relaxed against his side. “You see, the trick is to make yourself indispensable, that way you’ll never want to be rid of me.” 

“Is it?” she laughed. “I already own your cock, I don’t plan on sending the rest of you anywhere.” 

“True” he gave a small shrug. “Though I do have to work tomorrow.” 

“So do I” Sansa gave an exaggerated sigh. “My boss is terrible.” 

“Is he?” 

“I’ve been promoted for three days now and I still don’t have my business cards” she smirked.

“You’ve been promoted for one half of _one_ business day” he pulled her across his lap and she laughed, loudly. “Are all redheads this impatient?” 

“I have no idea. I take it you haven’t slept with many redheads?” 

“You would be my first, thank you very much,” he paused. “Well...natural redhead anyway.” Sansa’s laughter echoed in the apartment, and she buried her face against his bare chest as she snickered. 

“I mean” she lifted her head just enough to look up at him. “You would know.” 

“Quite intimately” he raised a brow as he smirked. Over the past few days, the stubble on his cheeks had grown out and she found Jaime with a beard quite handsome. 

“How’s tomorrow gonna go?” she asked suddenly.

“We go to work, design good shit, then we go to dinner” he answered easily. 

“And?”

“And….” he made a face. “And then we do whatever we want.”

“Am I going to have to battle Tarth and your father when they find out?” she asked. 

“Possibly, though I am sure you can handle yourself against both.” 

“Oh, I am sure that I can,” she trailed her finger over his chest. “It's just a matter of the fallout once I am done.” 

“Stark” he hauled her closer. “You chew up Tywin Lannister and spit him out, I’ll buy you a car.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise” he slid his hand under the baggy fabric of his dress shirt, one that she was currently wearing. “Now, if it's alright with you, I’d like to cease talking about my father.” 

“If you insist” she smirked. “Take me to bed.” 

“Take this out of here, Pod” Sansa shook her head in defeat, shoving the layouts aside with a frown. She’d been working on the new designs for Martell Jewelers and she wasn’t satisfied with them. “When the plotter finishes, bring me the new printouts, please.” 

Podrick hopped into action, bundling the papers up and tucking them under his arm. The younger man squeaked in surprise as he reached the door and the large form of Tywin Lannister stood in the doorway. Sansa watched him give Tywin a large berth and hurry out the door. 

“You’ve been promoted, I hear” Tywin spoke smoothly, the gleam in his emerald eyes telling her that this conversation was going to be quite interesting. 

“I have” she stood tall, facing down the predatory gaze of the Lannister patriarch. “You can offer your congratulations any time” she smirked. 

Tywin raised his brows in surprise, “Can I?” 

“You may” she agreed, rounding her desk. “What brings you to my office today, Mr. Lannister?” 

“Given the circumstances, I daresay you should call me Tywin” he countered. 

“Circumstances?” 

“I have it on good authority that my son spent the weekend at your house,” he said. 

“I have it on good authority that my bed is none of your business” she said without fear and she saw his emerald eyes flash. He watched her for several seconds, his assessing gaze so like Jaime’s that it was disconcerting. 

“I said at your house, not in your bed” he corrected with a smirk. 

“Tywin, Tywin” she shook her head. “You know as well as I do that bed is far too specific.” 

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said after a long pause. 

“Should I be?” she asked. “Is the Great Lion going to bite me?” 

Tywin chuckled, moving further into her office. He glanced at the pictures on the sideboard before looking back to her, “The last thing I need is a harassment suit,” he pulled something from his pocket. “Should I bite you, that is.” 

“Tywin Lannister” she crossed her arms and leaned against her desk. “You damned flirt.” 

He laughed, then placed the paper from his pocket onto her desk. She glanced at it, surprised to see that it was the business card of Stannis Baratheon, the CFO of Stag Marketing. If there was any competition for Casterly Designs, it was Stag Marketing. Stannis was a shark, no nonsense and gloves-off intense. The CEO, his older brother Robert Baratheon, was a drunken wastrel, but Stannis was damned good at what he did and she couldn't help but respect him for it. 

“Stannis?” she asked. 

“Stannis” he nodded. “He was here earlier looking for you. I happened to be in the lobby at the time.” 

“Looking for me?” she picked up the card, turning it over to find the back blank. It was a smooth, embossed card, clean and concise, like the man himself. 

“He’s here to poach you now, I am certain” Tywin said. “Now that you are a Senior Designer.” 

“And _how_ does he know that?” 

“Word travels fast in our industry” Tywin reasoned. 

“If by fast you mean ‘by Tarth’, I would believe you” Sansa said as whistling sounded in the hall. 

“If you intend to leave--” 

“I have no intention of leaving” she interjected, correcting him. “Not for Stannis or anyone else. If you want me gone, you’ll have to do it the old fashioned way and fire me.”

“Good” Tywin said as Jaime appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face and a tray of paper cups. At the sight of the Great Lion, Jaime drew up short and looked between them, his eyes narrowing. “I was just speaking with our newest Senior Designer” Tywin explained to Jaime and Sansa gave a chuckle. 

“Your father promised not to bite me” Sansa smirked slipping the card into her pocket as Jaime extended a coffee cup to her, “So thoughtful, thank you.” 

“It comes with a price” Jaime replied. “Martell called.”

Sansa muttered a curse, Tywin’s smirk didn’t escape her eyes and she faced him head on, “What?” 

“Oberyn Martell doesn’t trust me” Tywin said smoothly. “I suspect he doesn’t trust Jaime much either.” 

“Well, then it's a good thing that I am not a Lannister then” she countered and Tywin laughed, shaking his head. 

“We’ll talk soon,” Tywin said as he excused himself with a nod. 

“I look forward to it, Tywin” Sansa replied.

Jaime watched his father go before turning back to her, “What did he want?” 

“Hmm?” Sansa smiled coyly, sipping her coffee. “Missed me already?” 

“Hardly, it's only been a few hours” he scoffed, both of them remembering that he hadn’t gone home last night as intended, but instead left at dawn in order to clean up and get to work. 

“You missed me so much you went to the coffee shop and got me a fancy latte” Sansa ran her fingers over his tie. 

“More like ensured I can bribe you with a fancy latte” he corrected, but his eyes held a gleam that she knew all too well. 

“I can think of something else you could bribe me with” Sansa teased. 

“You’re being very evasive” he leaned in to kiss her and she was distracted enough not to feel his hand slip into her pocket. “You’re smooth, but not that smooth” he stated as he read the card, his lips dropping into a frown. “Fuck…” 

“He’s harmless” Sansa took the card and tossing it onto her desk. 

“Then why didn’t you just throw it away?” Jaime asked, watching her closely. 

“Worried, Jaime?”

“Sansa—-“

“I spent the weekend in bed with you” she cut him off. “If you think that I am going to turn around and run to Stannis’ arms, then you don’t know me at all” she said, her expression hard and eyes locked on him. 

Jaime set his coffee cup on her desk, his body rigid as he rounded the desk. Sansa turned to face him, realizing that he had trapped her between his body and her desk. He carefully took her coffee cup from her hands and set it aside. He reached out to her, his hand cupping her hip before sliding around her back and hauling her close. She could smell his shampoo, the coffee on his breath and feel the heat of his body against her own. 

Both of them were taking ragged breaths, the air between them charged and electric. She felt a tremor roll through her, her body remembering the pleasure that Jaime had wrung from her the past three days. 

“I have those new printouts—-“ Podrick froze in the doorway choking on his words. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear the papers falling to the floor. 

“Out” Jaime told him without looking away from her and she heard Podrick scurry away. Poor Pod was going to need hazard pay soon. Jaime’s hand travelled to the outer curve of her ass before his hand gripped it firmly, pulling a gasp of surprise from her lips. “I am not worried about you running” he smirked, his face close enough that she felt his lips ghost across hers. “I know you’re just as addicted to me as I am you, Stark.” 

“Lannister...” she said breathlessly. 

“I know every gasp, every whimper and every pulse of your body, Stark. It as good as belongs to me now” he rocked against her and she could feel the length of his cock through his trousers. 

“Oh Lannister” she tilted her head and looked innocently up at him. “That road goes both ways” she lowered her hands and gathered the material of her skirt until the tops of her stockings were visible and she heard Jaime groan softly. 

“Gods.”

“Jaime” she leaned forward, their lips barely touching. “You’re as much mine as I am yours” she released her skirt and the fabric fell back over her stockings as she turned away from him. “And you owe me a car.” 

“Damn you” he growled and hauled her back into his arms, kissing her deeply. Sansa grabbed his tie, holding him as he wrapped his arms around her and plundered her mouth. 

She leaned into his bruising kiss, both of them battling for dominance for several seconds before the phone on her desk rang loudly. Abruptly she pulled back, keeping her eyes on Jaime as the intercom beeped and Podrick’s worried voice sounded on the other end. 

“Sorry to—err, interrupt, but Mr. Oberyn Martell is on line two and he doesn’t sound happy” Podrick explained. 

“Put him through in thirty seconds” Sansa said and the intercom fell silent. 

“Have dinner with me?” 

“I can’t, I’m busy” she smirked.

“Busy?” 

“Washing my hair.” 

Jaime laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll wash your hair, just have dinner with me.” 

“If you insist” she patted him on the chest. “Now, bugger off, I have to work.” 

“Better earn those business cards” he gave her a quick kiss and she laughed as he stepped back. 

“Did you order them?” 

“First thing this morning” he picked up his coffee cup and moved toward the door. 

“Jaime” she turned and called after him. He paused and turned back to look at her. “Sans serif?” 

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” He raised his paper cup in salute and slipped out the door just as her phone rang. 

Sansa smoothly picked it up, “Mr. Martell, lovely to hear from you.” 

Jaime wasn’t surprised to see his father waiting for him in his office, in fact, he would have been disappointed if the old man hadn’t tracked him down. 

“Jaime” Tywin greeted. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure” Jaime smirked, knowing damn good and well what brought the Great Lion down to the lower floors of Casterly. 

“Stannis Baratheon was in the lobby this morning looking for Sansa Stark” Tywin began, uncrossing his legs to stand. “It is imperative that you don’t allow him to poach her.” 

“I won’t, though I know she wouldn’t up and leave” Jaime replied. 

“She will if you break her heart” Tywin rounded the desk. Jaime had always felt so young and inferior under his father’s imposing gaze. The peril, he supposed, of working in the family business. 

“I have no plans to do that.” 

Tywin smirked, patting him on the shoulder, “No plans, I see. Well, then I hope that you don’t use her and cast her aside as you did the string of women before her. Sansa Stark is an intelligent woman, bright and beautiful, try not to fuck this up.” 

“Am I to understand” Jaime chuckled. “That you’re already on ‘Team Sansa’ and you’ve only spoken to her once.” 

Tywin chuckled, “How many times did you speak with her before you decided that you would take her to bed?”

“Fair enough” Jaime agreed. 

“She’s not afraid of me” Tywin mused. “Tysha has been married to Tyrion for nearly five years and she still panics if she’s alone with me.” 

“Yes, well, you did threaten to sell her body to Essos for medical experiments if she betrayed or hurt Tyrion.”

Tywin shrugged, “True.”

“Sansa isn’t going anywhere. Not in relation to Casterly and not in relation to me.” 

“Then you’d better explain that to Tarth” Tywin said coolly. “Because someone on your team leaked the information to Stannis over the weekend, and that, Jaime, is unacceptable.” 

“I will handle it” Jaime promised, hearing the threat in his father’s voice, even if the words were not spoken. "I can handle my team." 

“See that you do” Tywin clapped him on the shoulder and then slipped from his office, as silent as the predatory cat that the Lannisters were associated with. 

Jaime wiped a hand over his face before drinking the rest of his coffee in a long gulp. His life, it seemed, had gotten rather complicated in the past few days, though he didn’t mind it. Not truly. 

He had spent an amazing weekend with Sansa. Had woken in her arms this morning and snuck out at the crack of dawn after he stole a kiss, in order to shower and be at work on time. 

He had been loathe to part with her, knowing that the long work week ahead of them would seem even longer if he couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t kiss her. 

After he had sorted through his voicemails and overdue emails, he had walked across the street to grab them both coffee, using it as an excuse to see her. As a reason to spend just a few stolen minutes in her company. 

Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to shake her from his mind. Her name and her face ran on a marquee in the back of his mind until he had given in and gone to see her. All it took was a glance, a smirk from her and he was ready to take her right there on her desk, uncaring who could see them. 

Poor Podrick had surely gotten the surprise of his life when he walked in on them. Jaime made a mental note to talk with the younger man soon and make sure that he had the man’s discretion. As Tywin had said, leaks in the senior team were not acceptable. Casterly couldn’t afford to be hemorrhaging secrets, not when Stannis Baratheon already smelled blood in the water. 

Moving back to his desk, Jaime sank to the leather chair and unlocked his computer. He had a lot of work to do and he was determined to do his best at pushing Sansa from his mind so he could get it done. 

Easier said than done, he chuckled to himself.


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO much for the overwhelming support you've shown this fic! I am so glad you're all enjoying it! 
> 
> Just a reminder that the picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189074729641/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/)  
and I would encourage you to check out [THIS](https://dmchnknst.tumblr.com/post/189310978700/inspired-by-the-magnificent-fic-sans-serif-by/) amazing picset from 'dmchnknst'! It's just perfect!

Jaime watched Sansa as she spoke--no, _laughed_ with the Red Viper. Oberyn Martell. A man who held no love for the Lannisters or their work, and made no secret of such, was laughing with Sansa Stark, the glint in his eyes making Jaime’s hackles rise and his jaw clench. 

Oberyn Martell was the sole heir to his elder brother’s vast jewelry fortune. The Martell family was known, and known well, for their couture jewelry, pure gold, high quality gemstones and their ability to adapt to any market and style. All while still holding true to their Dornish roots. 

A disagreement and physical altercation many years ago had cemented the Lannisters as their foes, but the Martell’s were not so ignorant as to cut off their nose to spite their face. They knew Casterly Designs was the best, and their reluctance to get into bed with the Baratheons kept them coming back for each new campaign.

Hence why Sansa was chosen to take point on this account. It was delicate, yes, but she had the skills needed for it to succeed. Not to mention it provided Martell with a buffer against direct Lannister communication. Jaime had been reluctant to assign such to her, knowing well Oberyn’s status as a ‘swinging dick’ and ladies’ man, but he trusted in her talent and her work. 

He just didn’t have to like watching them. 

Doran Martell had already ventured to his waiting car, but Oberyn seemed to be trying his best, his smoothest moves, but Sansa was unflappable. If only Martell knew that Sansa had slept in _his_ bed last night, had screamed his name in the shower this morning. Oberyn had no idea--or perhaps he did, that Sansa had been his these past several moons. 

The best moons of his life, thus far. 

The green monster of jealousy and possessive thoughts surged to life in the back of Jaime’s mind, urging him to walk right the fuck over there and pull her away. He could pull her into his office, pull her into her office or drag her up the executive elevator and to his father’s vacant office and more than adequate desk. 

Oberyn laughed--loudly, at something Sansa said, her fiery hair swaying as she shook her head and gently placed a folder of paperwork and artwork layouts into his hands. 

Jaime’s body physically jumped when Oberyn, rather than taking the folder, covered Sansa’s hands with his and leaned closer, whispering something in Sansa’s ear. Sansa’s lips melted into a polite smile and then a smirk, her head nodding in his direction, at which Oberyn gently patted her hand and winked. 

He watched as Sansa walked the Viper to the elevator and bid him farewell with a handshake, her lithe form holding still even after the elevator doors closed. Giving up on any appearance of ‘playing it cool’, Jaime emerged from his office and crossed to where Sansa stood with her arms crossed. 

“What--”

“Thirty-three seconds” she said, turning to face him with a smirk. 

“What?” 

“Mr. Martell asked me how long until you would find me after he left, and I said a few minutes,” she tucked her hair behind her ears and crossed her arms. “But it was only thirty-three seconds.” 

“It looked like he asked you out” Jaime stated. 

“He did” she shrugged. “I told him that I was already quite enamoured of someone else.” 

“Good” Jaime moved a step closer, aware that they were in the elevator lobby and anyone could see them if they chose to look. 

“He advised me to keep his business card close, should you ever be so callous as to break my heart,” she explained. “I told him that wasn’t necessary” she looked him over. “Look at you, strung tight as a bow.”

“I do not particularly enjoy watching him hit on you” Jaime said softly. 

Sansa took a step closer, her shoulder brushing his chest with her shoulder as she stopped beside him, “I would have thought you’d have gotten all this possessive energy out of your system in the shower this morning.” 

“Stark--” 

“Jaime” Brienne’s voice broke into their conversation and Jaime watched as Sansa stepped back, a facade of indifference falling over her once-open face. “Have you forgotten our meeting?” 

_Yes_ he thought to himself. 

“No, I will be right there” he assured Brienne who looked as if she would scoff in response. Instead she only gave a nod of her head and, after glancing to Sansa, turned and returned to the conference room.

“I will leave you to it then,” Sansa said and turned back toward her office. Jaime reached for her hand, but he only felt her fingers slip through his own and was forced to watch as she walked down the hallway. Flexing his fingers, he raised them to pinch the bridge of his nose before he too retreated from the elevator lobby. 

“I would apologize for interrupting--” Brienne said as he stepped into the conference room. Brienne’s tall form was leaned over the tabletop, her eyes pouring over the details of several promotional layouts. 

“However, I doubt it would be sincere” Jaime said with a sardonic smile. “I will warn you now, as I have put this off long enough. You cannot treat Sansa as if she is plagued simply because I date her. Her career does not deserve to suffer, this company does not deserve to suffer over petty and ridiculous jealousies. If that is something that you cannot accept, Brienne, then we will need to evaluate things and decide how best to proceed.” 

Brienne paled and the barely veiled threat, her blue eyes seeming to dull and Jaime wished that he could fix the pain he was unintentionally causing her--that she was causing herself. She did not speak, only gave a curt nod that he took as understanding. He had no desire for this ridiculous drama to consume any more work time today. The sooner they got this meeting over with, the sooner he could find Sansa and drag her home.

Silence filled the room for several moments, and then Jaime let his shoulders slump, “Alright” he turned to the printouts on the table. “Shall we, then?” 

Sansa jogged across the street to the coffee shop, desperately needing it after the last few days she had spent preparing to face Doran Martell and his marketing team. While Oberyn had been kind and supportive, it never changed the nerves that came on the eve of the pitch. A lot had been riding on the Martell's liking her designs; not only her reputation but her standing here at Casterly. She was already working her ass off to show everyone--Brienne included, that she was more than capable of doing her job.

That being said, she was going to buy herself the largest latte she could find and probably a few baked treats as well. 

_Oh, maybe a donut_ she sighed as she reached the shops door. Gods know Brienne had certainly tried her patience enough for her to crave carbs. Well, Brienne, and Jaime never letting her get a moments peace. 

She had no idea, when they started down this path, that Jaime would grow so attached so quickly and that he would grow possessive in the wake of that attachment. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attached to him in return, more that, given all she had heard about Jaime, she didn’t expect their affair to last more than a few weeks. 

Now, nearly three moons later and here they were. In a relationship. An actual fucking relationship... 

She moved into the shop and stood on line, her mind wandering as the soft non-threatening jazz filled the air around her.

_ “I can hear your brain running a hundred miles a minute” Sansa looked up from where her head was cushioned on Jaime’s chest and found him watching her. “Gods, you do look serious.” _

_ “I am merely thinking” he replied with a smirk, raising their entwined hands to kiss her knuckles._

_ “Don’t hurt yourself” she smirked and he rolled his eyes. _

_ “You’re hard on the ego, anyone ever tell you that?” he teased._

_ “Only you, every chance you get” she scooted closer against his side, stealing the warmth of his body as they lay naked beneath the sheets. “What’s on your mind, Little Lion?” He laughed at the nickname, his emerald eyes alight with mirth and she knew that, at the very least, they could laugh together and that made her feel happier than she had in years. _

_ “I know this all began very casually” he said softly, raising her fingertips to his lips to kiss them softly as he paused. “But I find that I am rather serious about you, Stark.” _

_ “Are you?” she felt her heart as it began to race as he nodded. “I confess, I am something akin to fond of you too” she smirked, _

_ “Fond” he groaned in exasperation as she climbed up the bed and leaned down to kiss him. “Fond is such an ugly word” he ran his hands through her hair, ignoring the snarls and tangles from their most recent bout of lovemaking. “We’re in marketing, can’t you think of a better word than ‘fond’, Stark?” _

_ She made a great show of thinking, looking off to the wall of his bedroom and the dark black and white landscape photograph that hung there. Several seconds passed and she turned back to him, “Sentimental?” he groaned and she leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Partial?” he scoffed and she kissed his temple. “Hmm, let me see” she ran the tip of her nose across his, “Enamoured?” _

_ “Better” he said as she kissed his cheekbone. _

_ “Addicted?” she brushed her lips across his in a fleeting kiss and she smiled to herself when he raised his head to chase her lips, lengthening the kiss._

_ “Much better” he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her over his body, her hair creating a cocoon around them both. “But I was aiming for something more like.. 'exclusive’,” his voice was deep with lust and emotion, though she wasn’t sure which held the majority share._

_ “We weren’t exclusive?” she replied._

_ “Perhaps then the word I am looking for is ‘girlfriend’,” he added. _

_ “You want to be my girlfriend” she smiled, kissing him briefly, adjusting her legs so that she was astride his lap. “Oh, Little Lion, who knew you were such a romantic.”_

_ “Stark” he growled a warning as he slid his hands from her hair, down the bare skin of her back to her ass, grabbing it roughly to rock against her. Her body instantly responded, aching for his. The way the length of his cock felt against her still-sensitive folds, the way his body heat seemed to seep into hers, all of it was just...everything._

_ “Fine, yes--whatever you want” she kissed him, parting his lips with her tongue and delving to the wet heat of his mouth. His hands guided her lower body, his grip on her ass firm and commanding, rocking and grinding her along his cock._

_ “Whatever I want?” Jaime burrowed his face into her neck, sucking and licking along the sensitive skin of her shoulder. _

_ “Yes” she readily agreed, her body more than willing to surrender to his touch everyday for the foreseeable future. Of course, her mind wasn’t too far behind either._

_ “Good” he held her tightly with one hand and rolled her beneath him, holding himself over her on a steady elbow. His golden hair fell over his forehead as he looked intently down at her, his eyes filled with more emotion than she had been prepared for. “You’re mine, Stark, and I am yours. Exclusive. Partners. Lovers. Whatever you want to call it. That’s what I want.” _

“Ma’am” the barista called her forward, breaking into her musings. Sansa quickly ordered her coffee and two lemon cakes, the barista grabbing them with a smile. However, before Sansa could hand over the cash, a long arm appeared to her left, clad in an expensive navy blue suit. His large hand held a sinister black credit card that made her raise an eyebrow.

“Add black coffee to that” the man’s deep voice said as the barista took the card. 

“Excuse--” her words died as she turned and came face-to-face with Stannis Baratheon. “Me.”

“You’re excused” he told her, his stormy blue eyes cutting through her. She could easily see how this man was terrifying in the boardroom. Tall, broad and imposing, he looked as if he were straight out of a fashion magazine; from the strength of his nose and jaw, to the lean planes of his body, he looked more like he was built for war than marketing. 

Though, she admitted to herself, marketing _was_ a form of war. 

“Stannis Baratheon” she returned her wallet to her purse and faced him. “Are you stalking me?” He look flustered for a moment as they stepped away from the counter to wait for their coffee, but he quickly recovered.

“No, but you are a very difficult woman to get in touch with” he replied. “I was going to try, once again, to see you but as luck would have it I spotted you going into the coffee shop.”

“You certainly know how to make a girl feel special” she chuckled, shaking her head. “I am not looking for another job.” 

“You haven’t even let me pitch you on Stag yet” he raised a brow, his eyes glittering with something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

She had to admit, if Jaime wasn’t in the picture, she would be quite interested to see if the rumors about Stannis being as _unflappable_ as a marble statue were true. As it was, he certainly looked like he was carved from marble..

“I am very happy at Casterly, Mr. Baratheon” she reasoned. 

“Please, call me Stannis.”

“Stannis” she continued. “I am flattered by your interest, but I am happy at Casterly. I have put in my dues there and they’ve promoted me accordingly.”

“Rumor has it that you were promoted on a bet” Stannis said as their coffees were announced. He stepped forward and grabbed them, handing her her cup before awaiting her reply.

“I was. I know the client and I know that what she asked for wasn’t truly what she wanted. Not in this case anyway,” Sansa explained as they moved out of the way of the other shop patrons, stepping to the alcove near the window. “Jaime seemed to think otherwise, so we made a wager. That, however, doesn’t mean that I haven’t worked hard and--”

“I meant no offense, Miss. Stark” he raised a hand in supplication. 

“Sansa is fine.”

“Sansa” he repeated. “I meant no offense, I was simply curious.” 

“What other secrets has Tarth told you?” she asked boldly. 

His eyes narrowed for a second and then he shook his head, “Who I heard it from doesn’t matter--”

“Corporate espionage matters,” she sipped her coffee, sighing at the delicious taste. Gods, she had earned this today. When she looked back up at him, his eyes were fixed on her mouth and she couldn’t help but smirk. “Stannis…”

“As I was saying” he refocused on her eyes, clearing his throat quickly. “I would make you a very lucrative offer to come over to Stag. Promoting wouldn’t be an issue, I would bring you in as a senior art director from the start.” She nodded, slightly impressed that he was willing to place her so highly in the company straight away. “And the benefits and salary would be more than competitive, I assure you.”

“Why?” 

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why do you want me so badly?” she noticed the flush spread across his cheekbones and she paused. “Why do you want me _to work at Stag_ so badly?” she corrected. 

“Because you’re the best at what you do, and I pride Stag on being and hiring the best” he explained, taking a drink from his paper cup.

“My answer is still no” she replied with a small smile. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I truly am happy at Casterly.” 

He gave a reluctant nod of understanding, he set his coffee on the nearby table and pulled a card and a pen from his pocket, quickly writing on the back, “Should circumstances change, and you are no longer happy with _Casterly_,” he extended the card to her, their fingers brushing as she took it. Stannis cleared his throat once more, picking up his coffee as she turned the card over to see that he had written his cell phone number. “I am only a phone call away.” 

“Thank you, Stannis” she pocketed the card and, with a shake of their hands, Stannis strode from the coffee shop, the door bell jingling as he exited. 

Sansa turned to look out the window of the shop and her eyes locked on the tall, blonde and glaring figure standing across the street. He pocketed his phone and crossed his arms, a single eyebrow raised in question. She turned to face him fully, taking a slow and deliberate drink of her coffee as her phone vibrated in her pocket. She had nothing to hide, she was not going to cower or succumb to guilt. Her eyes didn’t leave him as she grabbed her phone and unlocked it to read the text message. 

_“You’ve been a bad girl” _ it read and she chuckled, quickly typing her reply. She watched as he uncrossed an arm and pulled his phone from his pocket and shook his head as he read the message. He typed something quickly and her phone buzzed a second later. _“Alley. Now.”_ She looked back to him and he only nodded once before glancing at both sides of the street and jogging across to duck into the alley beside the coffee shop.

Sansa quickly finished her coffee and tossed the cup into the bin before tucking her phone and the lemon cakes into her purse for later, she was definitely going to eat those babies as soon as she could. Following a young couple out of the door, she turned toward the alley, tracing the path he had just taken. 

Moving past the fire escape, she felt a strong hand as it grabbed her wrist, guiding her until her back hit the brick wall of the apartment building next to the coffee shop. Vaguely she registered the sound of her purse hitting the cement as his tall body trapped her against the wall. 

“Jaime” she whispered, seeing the way his emerald eyes were nearly all black, his jaw tense as he watched her. He shifted closer and she nearly whimpered, her body wanting nothing more than to cuddle against his, to share his seemingly abundant warmth and feel the beat of his heart against hers. 

He didn’t speak, but braced his hands on the wall over her shoulders and leaned closer, taking her lips without preamble. This was not the gentle kiss they had shared this morning, but a deep claiming kiss that left no room for mistaking Sansa belonged to anyone but him. He parted her lips with his skilled tongue, pushing his way into her mouth as he stepped close enough for their bodies to be pressed together, the hard length of his arousal digging into her stomach. 

Belatedly she lifted her hands, tunneling under the fabric of his suit jacket to hold onto the strong muscles of his back as she returned his kiss with every bit of lust he was pouring into her. She moaned softly as he sucked on her tongue and then again in surprise as his hand was suddenly at her thigh, bunching her pencil skirt. 

He knew as well as she did, that she had pulled on stockings and a garter belt this morning. She had done so slowly, ensuring that Jaime watched every motion. Now, however, it seemed he was going to take his revenge for her teasing. Even here, in the alley behind the coffee shop where anyone could happen upon them. It wasn’t likely, but still...

Her body arched against him as his hand skated across the bare flesh of her upper thigh before it burrowed into her panties. He pushed the fabric aside, the pads of his fingers circling her clit in just the perfect way that only he knew how to. Sansa could feel him smiling into their kiss, pleased with how soaked she already was for him, no doubt. She managed not to cry out when he sank a single, long finger into her slick cunt, but only because he deepened their kiss, bruising her lips with his adore. 

Just when she felt she couldn’t breath, Jaime’s lips tore from hers and he leaned close enough that his mouth brushed against her ear lobe. “This” he thrust his finger as deep as it could go, his thumb dancing around her clit. “This is mine, Stark.” 

“Fuck--”

“Not Stannis’, not Oberyn’s,” he pulled her ear lobe in between his teeth, biting the sensitive flesh softly. “Mine.” 

“Jaime--” she choked on a moan, doing her best to keep quiet. Her hands held to his back in a white-knuckle grip, her legs barely able to keep her upright. 

“Beg.” 

“Please” she sobbed without hesitation. “Please make me cum. Please Lannister.” 

“On my finger, or on my cock?” he asked, releasing her ear. 

“You mean _my_ cock” she smirked as their eyes met. 

“I’ll take that as your answer then” he pulled his finger from where it was working her channel, licking it clean with a heated look. Sansa helped him to unbuckle his pants as he grabbed the condom from his wallet. As his cock sprang free of his trousers, she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him and twisting her wrist as she reached the tip. “Stark” his voice was deep, full of warning as he opened the condom and brushed her hand aside to cover himself with the latex. 

With a careful hop, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he held her against the wall. Jaime’s hands grabbed her ass to help hold her up and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders for balance. The brick of the building was digging into her back and into her silk blouse, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Not now. Not as Jaime dragged the head of his cock across her folds.

“Jaime--” she panted. 

“This is mine” he repeated as he aligned himself and, with a careful step forward, sank home. Sansa turned her head into his neck, her lips and teeth pressed to the tendons there as she muffled her own cries. “That’s my girl” Jaime said softly, kissing her own neck in reply as he began to fuck her. And oh did he fuck her.

In this position, she could feel him in every ounce of her body. Every time he filled her, she felt the breath jump from her body, his movements firm and commanding. She’d had sex with Jaime Lannister, she’d even--she’d dare say, made love to Jaime Lannister, but right now she was being thoroughly fucked by Jaime Lannister. 

It reminded her of their first night together, her back pressed into the wall of her apartment and the pizza forgotten on the floor as they lost themselves to the sexual tension that had been building since their first conversation. That night he had told her that she should always wear skirts, that skirts would make it easier to take her as he pleased. Now, several moons later, her knew her body better than she did and knew exactly how to move, where to move and she was quickly losing her mind. 

There was no romance, no soft sighs or gentle touches; there was only the bite of the wall into her back and the scrape of his chest against hers as he moved. The friction against her breasts was intoxicating and she wished that she could shed her bra and shirt to feel him against her. But, alas, their location didn't allow them that. Sansa could only hold on to him, wrapping her body around his; ankles locked together and her hands buried in his hair.

He turned and she met his lips eagerly, renewing their earlier kiss that served well to muffle his grunts and her cries. She held him as her body raced towards it peak, every muscle pulled tight as her nerve endings seemed to fire uncontrollably. 

“Jaime” she whispered as she pulled away from their kiss, trying to catch her breath as he fucked her harder and harder, filling her over and over. She pressed her forehead to his and their eyes locked, his dark and possessive gaze sending fire through her system. She could see it there as clear as day, the affection that drove him. Terror mixed with a hearty portion of love…

Her orgasm shuddered through her, her muscles contracting and bowing, clinging to his strength as she did her best to stay quiet. Jaime’s thrusts sped and then he was growling, the feral sound vibrating against her chest as he came, holding her against the wall as they both panted for air.

He kissed her softly, once, twice, then a third time before he rested his forehead against hers, “If I have to watch you talking with one more man, I swear to the Gods, Stark…” 

“I have to keep you on your toes somehow” she said breathlessly. “Besides, I think this was worth it.” 

“Definitely” he laughed softly, his softening cock slipping from her body. She whimpered, feeling suddenly empty without his body inside of hers. Jaime kissed her briefly before gingerly lowering her feet to the ground. She wobbled slightly, but he held her steady until she found her balance. As he stepped back, she leaned down to her purse and grabbed the napkins that were in between her lemon cakes, extending them to him. 

He dealt with the condom and cleaning himself up before wadding the latex into the napkins and tossing them into the nearby dumpster. She watched as he returned to her side, tucking himself back into his pants and seeing to his belt. 

“Well then” Sansa pulled her skirt back into place, cringing as her soaked panties settled back against her overly sensitive cunt. She grabbed the lemon cakes from her purse and handed one to Jaime, who took it with a smile. 

“I think we should call it a day,” he said, taking a large bite of the cake as she tucked into her own. “We can go home, order take-out, and start our weekend in bed early. Thoughts?” 

She chewed the delicious cake and swallowed, “Sounds idyllic...” 

“But?”

“But Sunday we have your sister’s party.”

“Fuck. I forgot.” 

“Convenient.” 

“More like wishful thinking” he finished his cake and leaned in to quickly kiss her, powdered sugar coating both of their mouths. “Alright, Stark. Hard bargain, but I agree.” 

“Good” she smiled up at him, raising her free hand to his hair and smoothing the errant locks back. 

“It’s long” he said softly. 

“I like it long” she replied, finishing her lemon cake with a smile.

“Then I won’t cut it just yet.” 

“Good” she said as he kissed her again.

“Come on, Stark. Let’s get out of here.”


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO SO SO much for the love and support you've given me on this story! I am having a blast writing it so it makes me happy that you're having a blast reading it! 
> 
> It is, admittedly, taking everything in me to keep this Jaimsa, especially after ALL the Stannis love you guys gave! LOL I love it! Stannis is the mannis. ;) 
> 
> A bit of plot movement, fluff and banter here. The plot thickens...

“Come on, lazy butt” Jaime’s voice sounded above her a second before the comforter was pulled away and the cool air of the bedroom hit her bare body. 

“No” she pouted dramatically, burrowing further into the pillows. She felt the bed dip as Jaime lay beside her, pulling her against his body as he rested his head on the pillow with hers. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to find him watching her, his own eyes still ruddy with slumber and his hair a mess from the night before. 

And the night before that. 

Jaime had dragged her back to his apartment after their interlude in the alley and the first thing they did was climb into a steamy shower, once again renewing their desire for each other while scrubbing away the grime of the city. 

From there, they’d spent the rest of Friday and all day Saturday lounging about, not even bothering with clothing and today, she sighed, today they had to go to Cersei’s penthouse. Which should prove interesting because she could hardly move without feeling a reminder of Jaime’s adore. Muscles she didn’t even know she had, ached and she had brick-burn on her shoulders from the building wall beside the coffee shop.

“Hey” Jaime said softly and she opened her eyes, not even realizing that they had drifted shut again. 

“Hey” she replied. 

“You know, you’re still beautiful, even when your hair has this whole rat’s nest thing going on” he smirked and she playfully smacked his chest. 

“Be nice, this rat’s nest is your fault” she leaned forward to kiss him briefly. “I am not the one whose hands were tangled in it.” 

“Well” Jaime chuckled. “What else am I to do when you’re sucking my cock like a goddess? Twiddle my thumbs?” 

“Fair enough” she laughed, stretching her legs. “Think we’ll survive today?” she asked, her tone serious. 

“I do, very much so,” he replied without hesitation, smoothing her hair with a gentle hand. “Sure, Cersei is a shrew, but you’re not afraid of my father so I think you can handle her.”

“Handling her isn’t the problem” Sansa laughed. “It’s how I handle her. She is your twin sister, I am sure that if I make an enemy of her it will make things harder for us down the line.” 

“Down the line?” Jaime repeated. “Stark, are you thinking of a future with me?” 

“Shut up, Lannister” she felt her cheeks heat and she rolled away but his strong arms banded around her, pulling her back flush to his chest. 

“Can’t escape that easily” he burrowed his face into her neck and her messy hair. 

“Lannister---”

“Tell me, Stark” he kissed her bare shoulder. “Are you doodling our names and hearts in your notebook?” 

“What are we? Twelve?” 

“Maybe practising writing ‘Sansa Lannister’ in cursive” he chuckled and she reached around to smack his ass, causing his laughter to increase. “Admit it, you’re gone for me.” 

“Oh sure” she laughed, knowing exactly how to escape his hold. “Maybe I wrote ‘Sansa Lannister’ when I was young and had a terrible crush on your _father_.” 

“My father...” his arms faltered, then loosened just enough... 

Sansa laughed, slipping from his arms and from the king-sized bed, “Got ya” she winked. 

Jaime’s confusion melted into laughter and when he ran after her, she laughed loudly all the way to the bathroom, Jaime’s arms catching her just as she turned on the shower. He lifted her against his chest, “Minx” he nibbled her neck and she was nearly embarrassed at the squeal of laughter that escaped her. 

“Admit it” she laughed. “You’re gone for me” she repeated his earlier words and his arms tightened around her. 

“So what if I am?” he whispered. 

“Good” she countered. “You can wash the hair you so diligently tangled with your lion’s paws.” 

“I’ll even brush it for you, Stark” he kissed her cheek and then helped her into the shower and kissing her deeply. 

Jaime could feel the tension in Sansa’s body as they stood in the elevator travelling to the penthouse level of Cersei’s apartment building. He knew, despite the brave face that Sansa had put on, she was nervous about attending her first Lannister party.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she looked over him, giving him a reassuring smile. His arriving with Sansa was sure to cause curiosity from the other family members attending, and he found himself very hopeful that they would all like Sansa as much as he did. 

Well, he swallowed thickly, ‘like’ is a word that didn’t even begin to describe how he felt about Sansa Stark. He’d never admit it, but he had woken up fifteen minutes before she had this morning and he had allowed himself to simply observe her. Propping on his elbow beside her, he admired the rumpled beauty that was Sansa Stark, memorizing every inch of her. 

It was possible, he supposed, to fall in love at first sight. It happened in movies and stories, and seemed possible enough. However, with Sansa he had merely lusted for her at first sight. It was only logical, she was a beautiful, intelligent woman and he wanted her badly. 

It was as he learned more about her; learned her sharp wit and dark sense of humor, learned that she had a kind and gentle heart but she didn’t let that get in the way of business matters, and learned that she was, quite simply, incredible, that he fell deeply in love with her. 

Lust between them was quick to flare to life, but it was love that built slowly, entrenching itself deep within his chest before he even realized that it had taken a firm hold. He didn’t mind, he smiled to himself. Loving Sansa wasn’t a weakness, in fact he felt all the more complete for it. 

And after this morning’s conversation, he dared to hope that she was right at his side in the new depth of emotion in their relationship.

Her hand tightening in his brought his attention back to the present and he turned to smile at her. “Ready?” he asked as the elevator arrived. 

“Too late to run now” she winked as the doors open, revealing the large, opulent apartment and the intimate gathering beyond. He led Sansa inside, helping her to hang her coat and purse on the rack before taking care of his own. 

“Jaime, you made it” Cersei’s voice sounded behind him as he finished hanging his jacket up. As always, Cersei looked impeccable in an elegant red dress and nude colored heels of some sort. He didn’t know much of women’s fashion but knew Cersei lived for it. The only piece he recognized was the gold necklace that had belonged to their mother, a trio of emeralds on the simple golden chain. Tywin had given it to their mother when she fell pregnant with Tyrion, an emerald for each of Joanna’s children. 

“Cersei” Jaime hugged his sister briefly. “Looking lovely as ever.” 

“Oh, look” Cersei’s assessing emerald gaze travelled to Sansa, narrowing slightly. “The flavor of the month?” 

“Four months, actually” Sansa countered smoothly. “I taste _very_ good” Jaime nearly burst out laughing at Sansa’s retort, watching as his girlfriend extended the bottle of wine to his sister. 

“And...wine” Cersei made a face as she took the bottle and examined the label. 

“Don’t worry” Sansa gave a saccharine smile. “From what I hear, the way you drink the vintage won’t matter long.” 

Cersei glared at Sansa for several seconds and Jaime felt his body tense, ready to intervene if Cersei should go ballistic. No one, repeat, no one ever spoke of Cersei’s drinking habits-- especially to Cersei and Jaime hadn’t thought to warn Sansa before they arrived. Sansa didn’t shrink away or run, not as most others would do at meeting Cersei Lannister’s wrath.

However, Cersei’s scathing reply never came. Instead, his twin burst into laughter, her slender form shaking with the force of the honest reaction. That was...unexpected.

“Gods, Jaime, wherever did you get her?” Cersei handed him the bottle of wine. “Open this would you” she said and when he took the bottle, Cersei took Sansa’s hand. “I like you” Cersei led Sansa further into the party, leaving Jaime to watch them with wide, confused eyes. 

Sansa glanced back to him, giving him a nervous smile but soon her attention was pulled back to Cersei and away from him.

“Cersei didn’t unhinge her jaw and eat her alive,” Tyrion’s voice came from beside him and Jaime looked to his equally befuddled younger brother. “There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.” 

Jaime ran a hand over his face, turning from Tyrion to see where Cersei was introducing Sansa to Kevan, Dorna and a few of his cousins. He looked back to Tyrion and raised the bottle, “Drink?” 

“I thought you'd never ask” Tyrion laughed. 

She had escaped to the balcony to take a deep breath and regain her bearings. Cersei had introduced her to more Lannisters than she could shake a stick at, and to even more distant cousins and friends. She had taken a risk at insulting Cersei straight off the bat, but she had guessed (correctly so) that Cersei was like her father in the sense that they admired strength and abhorred weakness.

It had worked, surprisingly so, and she had found herself pulled from Jaime’s side and introduced as ‘Jaime’s girlfriend’ to all who would listen. Once she had met everyone, including the reclusive and elusive Tyrion Lannister and his wife Tysha, she had the opportunity to speak with Cersei one-on-one. 

That, Sansa thought to herself, was rather enlightening. 

It seemed that Brienne had hit Cersei’s ‘psycho-radar’ a few years ago at the Casterly Christmas party and she had asked Jaime to tread carefully around her. That, and Cersei has been carrying on an affair with Robert Baratheon, who, in his sober moments seemed to be quite the endowed and skilled lover. 

Which was more than Sansa ever wanted to know. Ever. 

“It seems you’ve done the impossible” the Great Lion’s voice found Sansa on the balcony of Cersei’s apartment. 

“And what’s that?” Sansa turned to face Tywin Lannister, casually sipping her wine. 

“You’ve charmed all three of my children” Tywin smiled. “The only thing they are in agreement of, at this moment, is their like of you.” 

“Does that make me a lion tamer?” she asked and Tywin laughed, shaking his head as he moved to stand beside her. He, too, held a glass of arbor gold, though it seemed his was mostly untouched or recently refilled. 

Like his brother Kevan, he was well dressed in a grey suit and white dress shirt and he was so effortlessly confident that she couldn’t help but wonder if Jaime would also be as such when he was older. Mentally she shook herself, pushing the errant thought from her mind as Tywin stood beside her. 

“You know” Tywin began. “You’re the first woman that Jaime has brought to a family gathering? You’ve caused quite a stir.” 

“Unintentionally, I assure you” Sansa replied. 

“Nonetheless” Tywin replied, watching the city beyond them. It was early evening now and Lannisport was stunning in the sunset, all glitter and gold. “I suspect that Jaime means to keep you around.” 

“He has so far” Sansa wondered where the Great Lion was going with this. “I appear to have lasted longer than my predecessors.”

“Indeed you have” he agreed. “What I mean to say is,” he faced her, meeting her eyes. “Jaime’s in love with you.” 

“Is he?” she felt her heart thump wildly as it began to race. She did her best to betray no emotion, holding the larger man’s intimidating gaze.

“So if you intend to hurt him, or leave Casterly Designs--”

“I believe we’ve already covered this topic” Sansa cut in. “Unless that conversation was not to your satisfaction, I see no need to revisit it.” 

“Allow me to be blunt,” Tywin stated. 

“Please” she encouraged.

“If you intend to leave Casterly--or Jaime, I ask that you do it now” Tywin said plainly. “I will provide ample financial---”

Sansa clenched her jaw and stepped closer, lowering her voice “The fact that we are standing on Cersei’s balcony, in sight of the party and your family, is the _only reason_ that I am not throwing this wine in your face.” 

“Miss. Stark---” 

“How dare you--” she hissed below her breath, unfailingly meeting his deep green eyes. She was shaking with anger now, more than ready to throw her drink on his overpriced suit. “Is this what you do? Offer to buy off his girlfriends? Treat them like whores? Well, _Mr. Lannister_, I am no whore” she watched as his expression melted into a dangerous leonin smile and he sipped his wine as if he hadn’t a care in the world. 

It wasn’t until he raised a single eyebrow in smug approval that she realized what was happening. It had taken her a moment to figure it out, admittedly slower than she would have liked, but she realized why the Great Lion had cornered her alone on the balcony. 

“You’re _testing_ me” she whispered, anger still lingering in her voice. 

“You’re a beautiful woman,” Tywin said, as if that explained everything. “Promoted within hours of attaching yourself to my son. My eldest son and my heir.” 

Sansa couldn’t help the absurd laughter that bubbled from her throat, shaking her head in disbelief, “Unbelievable,” she stepped back.

“I can see why he likes you” Tywin admitted. “And do not get me wrong, I like you as well, Miss. Stark. I just have to be certain. This world is a world of fortune hunters and deceit.”

“I don’t live life like an elaborate chess match, Tywin” she replied. “I don’t play games with emotions or with people. I have told you and Jaime that I have no intention of leaving Casterly. I even made that quite clear to Stannis Baratheon. I don’t know what else I can do ---” 

“You’ve done it” Tywin assured her. “You’ll make a fearsome Lannister, Miss. Stark.” 

At this, her laughter was renewed, the sound trailing off as she drank deeply of her own wine, “This family is full of madmen.” Tywin didn’t argue, merely smiled and sipped his wine, standing proud and tall beside her as they both turned to look out over the city. 

Their silence wasn’t an uncomfortable one, but one of a deeper understanding of each other. Sansa knew, beyond all doubt, that Tywin Lannister was a man who would go to great lengths to protect his family and his legacy. And Tywin now knew that she was not a woman to be scared away or bought off. She was not for sale and neither were her affections, she wasn’t afraid of him or his money. 

She sipped her wine as she thought back on how much her life had changed in recent months. Her career had turned a corner, she felt as if she were truly contributing to Casterly and that she would make a difference in the world of marketing. And she had Jaime. She hadn’t been looking for him, for anyone, but suddenly there he was and she couldn’t have resisted him for all of the gold in Lannisport. 

Along with Jaime came the ire of one of her coworkers and the entrance into the Lannister inner circle, somewhere she never imagined she would be. Her whirling thoughts settled, however, when familiar arms slipped around her waist and Jaime’s chin rested on her shoulder. 

“Lost in thought, I see” Jaime said softly. 

“Your father and I were simply admiring the city and all its wonders” Sansa smiled, her eyes meeting the Great Lion’s and the older man gave her a small nod before returning inside. 

“Cersei is inside singing your praises to Tyrion, it's a very odd thing, I must say” Jaime chuckled. 

“Better than the alternative” Sansa noted. 

“True” Jaime agreed. “I will say this, though. All this finger foods and small talk, I have worked up an appetite. I’m starving.” 

“We’re a few blocks from a fantastic Italian place.” 

“By Italian, you mean pizza?” 

“Yes” Sansa laughed. 

“Perfect, let’s get out of here.” 

“Miss. Stark, the Starfall team is here” Podrick popped his head into her office and she stood, smoothing her skirts. 

“Thank you Pod,” she replied, grabbing her tablet and paperwork to follow him back down the hall. 

Ashara Dayne was easily spotted, from her inky black hair to her vibrant purple eyes, she was a stunning woman. It wasn’t her beauty that had gotten her to the top of her industry, however, though it certainly didn’t hurt. No, Ashara Dayne had worked her ass off and taken the small Starfall family business into the next level of success. The House of Starfall had outfitted queens and kings alike for coronations, balls and events. Everything from exotic silks to rare jewels, if royalty wanted it, Starfall could get their hands on it. 

Today they were at Casterly to discuss a rebranding for their upcoming hundredth anniversary and Sansa couldn’t wait to start this project. 

“Miss. Dayne, I’m Sansa Stark, it's a pleasure to meet you” Sansa extended her hand and Ashara shook it. 

“Likewise, I have heard good things about your work” Ashara said before turning to the blond man at her side. “This is my brother and vice president, Edric.” 

Sansa shook the slender man’s hand, “Nice to meet you, Edric.” 

“And you” he gave a small smile and Sansa thought perhaps this man wasn’t accustomed to dealing with the social side of things. 

“Let’s adjourn to the conference room, we can discuss what you’re looking for in the rebrand” Sansa smiled as a tall figure moved beside her. Keeping her smile in place, “Brienne this is Ashara and Edric Dayne, they’re with Starfall and here to discuss their upcoming anniversary.” 

Brienne gave a smile and Sansa was surprised at how unforced the expression appeared, “Lovely,” she shook the Dayne’s hands. “Mind if I sit in? Perhaps I may be of help.” 

“Of course” Sansa smiled her best professional smile. “The more great minds, the better” _you fucking bitch_. 

Sansa led the Daynes and Brienne to the small conference room, helping them to get situated. She absolutely didn’t want Brienne in the room, but there was nothing she could do in front of a client; not without seeming unprofessional or rude. For now, she would have to grin and bear it, and once the Dayne’s had gone, she would speak with Brienne privately. 

Movement beyond the window caught her eye and she looked up to see Jaime frowning deeply at the sight of Brienne sitting beside Sansa. _Yeah, tell me about it,_ she thought and refocused on her clients. 

“As you’re aware” Ashara began, smoothing her long hair behind her shoulder. “Starfall will be celebrating its hundredth anniversary next year, and we really want to make a big deal of the milestone.” 

“Understandable” Sansa agreed.

“We want to keep our existing logo and style guide, but we want to have a badge or seal of some sort to add on. Something elegant but hammers home the centennial celebration” Ashara continued. “A badge or sigil of sorts.”

“Badges are my favorite thing” Sansa smiled, making several notes on her pad of paper. “Do you have a copy of your style guide?” 

“Of course” Ashara replied and Edric produced a sleek black folder, sliding it to Sansa. Before Sansa could grab it, however, Brienne’s hand closed around it and she flipped through it. 

Sansa wanted to stab Brienne in the thigh with her pen but controlled herself, “I will look through the style guide and make sure that any concept sits in alignment with it” she assured Ashara who was looking at Brienne with an odd expression. “Is there anything that we should avoid?” 

“Nothing specific comes to mind” Ashara said, glancing to Edric who shook his head. “But I would definitely love for it to have a romantic and royal feel. We work with royalty more than any other clientele and I think including a small tribute to that would fit well.” 

“I agree” Sansa said as Brienne set the folder on the table. Moving subtly, Sansa set her tablet on top of the guide, silently claiming it as hers. “You know, there is some artwork that I think would work well for this” she flipped through tabs on her tablet and opened a website that she hadn’t opened in years. She had no idea why it suddenly came to mind now, but she couldn’t help but think it would work. Scooting closer to Ashara, she showed her the image gallery, “These pieces are a series of royal sigils” Sansa explained. “They’re in a private gallery now but I believe that using pieces or elements from the artwork would be no issue with the original artist.” 

Ashara and Edric scrolled through the images, nodding subtly, “I love the historical feel” Ashara said, pausing on a piece that showed a falling star etched into a golden background. “This is lovely.” 

“I will keep this in mind then, while working on concepts” Sansa made a few notes on her pad. “I think that the royal history, and history in general, will work well for this anniversary.”

“This is beautiful” Ashara stopped at a painting that was in the gallery, one that Sansa had forgotten about. It showed a pair of lovers, nothing scandalous, simply two people looking into each others’ eyes. The man was clearly older than the woman, his hair greying and bearing regal, and the woman was looking up at him as if he had hung the very moon in the sky. The woman’s gown surrounded them both and fading into the stars of the heavens at its hem. “Definitely the romantic and royal feel that I am looking for” Ashara smiled up at Sansa. “It seems we made the right choice in requesting you for our account." As Ashara set the tablet down, Brienne’s grubby paw once again snuck in, her sapphire eyes raking over every image on the website with curiosity. 

“Thank you” Sansa smiled. “I admit, I am very excited to take on this project. I have done a fiftieth anniversary but never a centennial.”

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with” Ashara replied with a smile. “What do you say? Same time next week?” 

“Absolutely” Sansa made a note as Edric did the same. “I will have several concepts and ideas for you to look over and we can talk about my second favorite thing.” 

“What’s that?” Ashara asked. 

“Fonts.” 

Ashara laughed, tucking her phone into her briefcase and standing, “As long as it isn’t ‘Old English’, we’re fine.” 

“Perfect” Sansa also stood, gathering her notes and reclaiming her tablet from Brienne, she escorted the Dayne’s back to the elevator, shaking their hands with a promise to see them next week and blow their minds.

She smiled until the elevator doors closed and the car was descending to the lobby, and then she turned to face the taller woman, her smile falling. 

“Interesting approach” Brienne spoke first. “Showing someone else's artwork to clients.” 

“Interesting approach” Sansa countered, ignoring Brienne’s comment about artwork. “Shoving your way into another designer’s meeting.” 

“I was curious--”

“You were rude, nosy and unprofessional” Sansa interjected. “You simply wanted to eavesdrop on my meeting, or perhaps steal the Dayne account for yourself.” 

“I was curious why they asked specifically for you” Brienne explained. “I see nothing special in your art, though you showed more from Alayne Stone than yourself.” 

“You know, Brienne” Sansa glared. “You’re about as enjoyable as hemorrhoids.” Brienne frowned and Sansa shook her head. “At this point in time, I respectfully ask that you _not_ invite yourself to any more of my meetings. Should this become a problem, I will file a formal complaint.” 

“Sansa--”

“I don’t need a babysitter and I don’t need your help” Sansa cut off Brienne’s protest. “And you can tell Stannis I said that, too. Good afternoon,” she nodded politely and walked away, angier than she had been in a long time. She didn’t even pause as she passed Jaime, who had been watching from the hall, leaving him to talk with Brienne. 

That evening, Sansa sat in her apartment with a glass of whisky, swirling the golden liquid idly as she waited for the microwave to finish cooking her dinner. Jaime was stuck at the office with Tyrion and she wasn’t in the mood to cook an elaborate meal for one person. She’d spend more time doing dishes than actually eating, in that case. Instead she grabbed something from the freezer, not even paying attention to what it was, and tossed it into the microwave. 

She was still furious from this afternoon, so much so that she had been completely blocked when it came to working on concepts for Starfall. She left work an hour early, giving Jaime a small wave as he spoke to someone on the phone in his office. He’d looked momentarily confused but smiled regardless, blowing her a soundless kiss that made her laugh. 

Instead of going straight home, she had walked a bit, trying to clear her head and stop plotting Brienne’s death. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help her--no matter how satisfying it might be to imagine shoving her down a flight of stairs. Or maybe an elevator shaft--

The microwave beeped and she stood, however as she took a deep sip of her whisky, her cell phone rang. Assuming it was Jaime, she crossed to where it sat on the counter, only to frown at the name on the screen. Her mind raced at what could possibly have him calling her, now after all these years... 

Setting her glass on the counter, she picked up the phone and accepted the call, “Petyr…”


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thank you to TommyGinger who talked me though both writers block and shitty plot points. THANK YOU!!!!

Sansa felt as if she had passed the week in a fog. Time seemed to be simultaneously dragging and flying by as her mind tried to wrap itself around her conversation with Petyr. 

She had met Professor Petyr Baelish during her attendance at Vale University. He taught philosophy and she had met him by chance in the library. She had been studying art history, and as luck would have it, their paths crossed during research on Ancient Greece. She had been instantly taken by him. 

Petyr, while not overly tall or traditionally handsome, was smarter than any man or woman she had ever met. He spoke with such deliberate intention she had mused to herself that he must weigh every word, giving himself a daily limit of how much weight he spoke. 

He was supportive of her artwork, her unique style reminiscent of romantic impressionists and renaissance masters. He had encouraged her and pushed her when she needed it, even setting up a studio for her to paint in one of the spare rooms at his secluded home. She had spent many hours there in the large picture window, in various states of dress, while she worked. 

He used his connections in the Vale high society world and he helped her to attain several gallery showings to debut her artwork. It was even Petyr who had given her a new name when she expressed a desire to earn praise far away from the Stark name. 

At the time, she was estranged from her mother, Catelyn. Cat Stark had firm beliefs and standards that she felt all Stark’s should follow, and being a ‘bohemian painter’ didn’t fit with the ideals. Sansa had been groomed, from birth, to follow in her mother’s footsteps of interior design. While Sansa showed a keen eye for design, homes bore her to death and so she resisted the role. She ran away to the Vale for college, not telling her parents until she was well on her way to an Art History degree that she wasn’t studying interior design. 

The following shit storm had been monumental and it had been Petyr that held her together. Petyr who took her in when her mother maliciously stopped the automatic payments on Sansa’s dorm room and she was nearly left homeless. It had been Petyr that held her when she cried and Petyr that made love to her in the darkness of their shared room. With him, she had thought that everything would be alright, and it had, for a time. 

With Petyr’s help, Alayne Stone was born. Alayne was poised, dark of hair thanks to a wig, firmly protected from the Stark wrath and perfectly anonymous. Alayne was Petyr Baelish’s pet, lover and deepest regret. And she knew that he regretted how he treated her. He showed her this by respecting her wish to be left alone, forever. 

He was kind and caring, that never changed during the course of their relationship, but his fidelity did and that is something that wounded her deeply. He claimed to have loved her more than he had ever loved anyone, and yet he hurt her and betrayed her trust. She couldn’t see reason to keep him in her life after that. 

Now, all of the work that Alayne had created sat either in Petyr’s home or in private buyers’ homes. Though her most sought after piece, _Lovers in Moonlight,_ hung above the bed in Petyr’s master bedroom. It was them, afterall, her and her first love in traditional romantic style, captured forever in oil on canvas. 

She had not heard from Petyr since she moved the last of her things from his home and moved away from the Vale forever. She had thought that she would go the rest of her life without hearing his voice again, hearing his soft laugh and articulate tongue.

Her office phone rang and she closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotions. 

_ “Petyr” she answered the phone, hoping that the tremor in her voice didn’t translate through the connection. “You have one minute to convince me why I shouldn’t hang up.” _

_ “I know that you have no desire to hear from me, sweetling” he replied, his voice as smooth and measured as always. “But the reason I am calling is for your benefit, not my own.” _

_ “Oh?” _

_ “I received a phone call today” he continued. “On Alayne’s line.”_

_ Sansa suddenly felt nauseous and felt her knees give out. She sank to the couch and pinched her nose, “A woman…”_

_ “Indeed, though she refused to give her name” Petyr continued. “I took the liberty of tracing the number. I must do my due diligence in protecting my Alayne.”_

_ “I am not ‘your Alayne’, not anymore,” she whispered, feeling weak._

_ There was a long pause before he spoke, “I know, but that does not mean I will not live up to my promise of protecting you. Perhaps, in some small way, I can make up for my previous failings.” _

_ “Failings” Sansa repeated. “Affairs. Heartbreak” she shook her head. “What did she want?” _

_ “She wanted to know about Alayne, know about the artwork” he paused. “She specifically asked about the Lovers.” _

_ “Of course she did” Sansa scoffed. “What did you tell her?”_

_ “What we agreed to, should anyone ever call” he replied. “That Alayne has since retired from painting, and all of her existing pieces are spoken for. She asked about licensing and I told her that was not an option.” _

_ “Good.”_

_ “It seems, sweetling, that you’re just as good at making ‘friends’ as you have always been” there was a sound of rustling paper and he continued. “Though, given this woman’s **unfortunate** appearance, I would gather that she hated you at first sight.”_

_ “Am I so hateable?” she asked quietly, squeezing her eyes shut. She hated how vulnerable she felt in talking to Petyr again. She hadn’t heard his voice in years and it brought back so many memories that they nearly overwhelmed her._

_ “Even in our darkest moments, I could have never hated you” he assured her, his voice suddenly quieter, softer and she could almost feel the intensity of his gaze from across the country._

_ “She’s going to shove me under a proverbial bus” Sansa sighed. _

_ “Then it is a good thing that I taught you well” he replied. “All those hours debating, talking and learning. You know when to preemptively strike and when to set a trap. And we both know how good you are at setting traps.” _

_ She couldn’t help but chuckle, “I did, after all, catch the legend himself in a lie.”_

_ “The only woman ever to do so” he paused. “Only man too, come to think of it.” _

_ Sansa laughed, “Do the games ever end?”_

_ “I suppose they do when our hearts do” he reasoned. “Perhaps it is the need to win the game that keeps us going.” _

_ “Just once” she whispered. “Just once I would like to be free.”_

_ “You are, sweetling” Petyr promised. “Free to walk away. Free to fight back. Free to choose.”_

_ “I chose once” she stood and crossed to the window, watching the city. “It didn’t work out well for me.”_

_ “Then you learn, wait, and choose again” he encouraged, as he always had. “Mistakes are acceptable when you learn from them.”_

_ “I am going to ruin her,” she admitted. “And if I am not careful, Casterly will be ruined in the process.”_

_ “Is Casterly so important?” he asked and when she answered only with silence he sighed, “Ah, I see.”_

_ “Petyr--”_

_ “As long as it isn’t Tywin” he asked. “The Great Lion will never love you like you deserve to be loved, Sansa.” _

_ “And how is that?”_

_ “Wholly and without holding another higher than you in the ranks of his heart” Petyr explained. “You deserve much more than that. You always have.” _

_ “Thank you Petyr” she sighed. “For calling, for protecting Alayne…”_

_ “I made you a promise and I intend to hold to it. I owe you that much. I will email you everything I pulled on her.”_

_ “Petyr---” she couldn’t stop the question from tumbling forth. “You’re well?”_

_ “I am alive” he replied honestly. “I did what any man who had lost his heart did...”_

_ “What’s that?”_

_ “I got a second PhD” he said and Sansa laughed, smiling when she heard his deep laughter join hers. _

_ “That is very **you**” she paused. “Psychology?” _

_ “You always did know me better than I knew myself,” he admitted. _

_ “We knew each other,” she admitted. “It wasn’t all bad.” _

_ “All endings are bad. Some sadder than others.”_

_ “And yet, we survive it all.”_

_ “We do” Petyr admitted. “Whether we want to or not.”_

_ “Thank you” she said once again. _

_ “You’re welcome, sweetling” he replied. “And, if you’re feeling cordial, do tell me how the bus-shoving goes.”_

_ “Sounds fair.” _

_ “Try not to put her into therapy” Petyr replied. “Ros still can’t look at me.” _

_ “Good” Sansa said. “She deserves nothing less.”_

_ “Just so,” Petyr chuckled. “Goodnight, Sansa.” _

_ “Goodnight, Petyr” she heard him end the call and she lowered her phone. She stared blankly at it for several moments before her email chimed and she saw the familiar email address in her inbox._

_ Taking a deep breath she opened the email and then the attachment, scrolling through everything that Petyr had learned about the mysterious woman who called regarding Alayne’s artwork. _

_ “Brienne” Sansa scoffed. “You petulant cunt.”_

Knocking sounded on the door to her office and she turned to see Podrick standing there, concern in his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

She nodded, “I’m fine.”

He gave a nod, “Well, that’s good, because the Dayne’s are here.”

“Thank you, Podrick” she replied and he ducked back into the hallway. 

Sansa turned to her desk, grabbing her tablet and paperwork and tucking them under her arm. As she turned away, she looked at her reflection in the window for several seconds, “Alright you bitch, pull it together” she muttered to herself. “Its show time.” 

She wasn’t surprised to see Brienne and Jaime in the foyer by the elevators. They both stood, tall and golden as they talked with the Dayne’s and while it made her angry, she wasn’t shocked to see it. Pasting a smile on her face, she made eye contact with Ashara first as the woman extended her hand to shake Sansa’s.

“Ashara” Sansa smiled. “Nice to see you. Welcome back.” 

Ashara glanced to Brienne’s tall form, “I have been looking forward to this meeting.”

“I hope to do it justice” Sansa replied, not even bothering to look to where Brienne stood at the side. Like Petyr had said, he taught Sansa well and she was far from stupid or naive. When her mind had pieced together the likely chain of events, she had called Ashara and asked to meet her for coffee, off book. Intrigued, Ashara had agreed. 

_ “Thank you for meeting me” Sansa said as she sank into the chair across from the dark-haired woman. She set her coffee cup on the table, stirring in a bit of sugar to sweeten the brew._

_ “It’s no problem” Ashara replied smoothly. “I could always use a good reason to get out of my office and I admit, I am curious as to what you’d like to discuss off the record.”_

_ “Speaking bluntly, in our meeting last week, Brienne was not invited” Sansa began and Ashara sipped her coffee. _

_ “I gathered as much” Ashara said with a soft smirk. “A woman in ill-fitting men’s suit pants doesn’t really add much to a couture design meeting.” _

_ “Brienne has something of a vendetta against me and I fear that it is going to spill over in our next meeting.” _

_ “Interesting. Do tell.” _

_ “The artwork that I showed you, it belongs to me. I painted it under a pseudonym a long time ago. I don’t speak of it, it was a painful time in my life and the painting of the Lovers---well, let’s say that it still hangs in his master bedroom and I don’t dwell on that.” _

_ Ashara nodded in understanding, “I take it no one at Casterly knows this, especially Jaime?” she asked and Sansa didn’t conceal her surprise. “High society talks, and Cersei talks even more than that. Your relationship with Jaime is no secret.” _

_ Sansa frowned, “It may be no secret but it has become a source of contention for Brienne.”_

_ “Ah, the oldest story in the book; unrequited love and jealousy of a woman more beautiful.” _

_ “And the things we do to hold on to hope” Sansa sipped her coffee, glad that Ashara was understanding about the chaos that would likely unfold. _

_ “I admit, I have been anxious to see your designs” she said as she tucked a dark curl behind her ear. “But now I am looking forward to our meeting for an entirely different reason.” _

_ “I wanted to approach this professionally and without any unnecessary drama, but if that is not possible, I hope that you do not hold the actions of its employees against Casterly.”_

_ “Darling, the only way I would take my business elsewhere is if you started your own business or if you went to STAG” Ashara assured her and Sansa was shocked at the woman’s confidence in her designs._

_ “Thank you, that’s truly an honor.”_

_ “Oh I know it is” Ashara drank from her cup with a smirk and Sansa couldn’t help but laugh, feeling much more at ease about the upcoming meeting._

“Shall we?” Sansa said to Ashara and Edric and they both nodded. Again she wasn’t surprised when Brienne followed, this time with Jaime in tow. Sansa felt her heart clench and she pushed it away. She didn’t want to think on what today could mean for her relationship with Jaime. 

_ “All endings are bad”_ Petyr had said, but she could only brace herself so much for the pain that they brought with them. 

Entering the conference room, she already had the digital presentation set up, the projection screen on the ‘welcome’ screen and the series of anniversary designs on the following slides. Ashara and Edric sat on one side of the table while Jaime and Brienne sat on the other.

“Thank you all for coming today” Sansa gave her best smile as she distributed a printout to everyone before she set her tablet on the end of the table and picked up the remote for the slides. “To catch up everyone, per our last meeting, we’re here to discuss design concepts for Starfalls’ hundredth anniversary that is coming next year” she clicked the remote and the existing Starfall logo appeared on the screen. “They’re looking for a sigil to add onto their branding for the year, celebrating their history and extensive clientele.”

She paused as Podrick brought in a tray with a pitcher of lemon water and several glasses. Jaime took the initiative, leaning forward to fill the glasses and distribute them, even passing one to her. He gave her an encouraging smile and she could have burst into tears. 

_Oh Jaime_ she turned away and refocused on her presentation. 

“I have created several concepts” she changed the slide with the remote, revealing the first two sigils. Each were mainly purple, filled with shooting stars in a nod to the Starfall heraldry. “These are obviously very traditional. They are based in 15th century heraldry and while not an immediate bullseye, they are understated enough to not compete with the main logomark.”

Edric nodded, “They could work for the men’s lines, they are rather masculine.” 

“Heraldry tends to lean that way” Sansa agreed with a smile. “I was meticulous with every element included in the shields. I always design with intention, and you will see key elements such as swords, gems, shooting stars and a nod to King Samwell Dayne, the 'Starfire'.”

“I love that” Ashara agreed. “Our family’s history is very important to us.” 

“As it should be” Sansa said. “The next design leans more toward the romantic” she said as she changed the slide. “While also a sigil and relatively simple, I have included elements from a renaissance-style painting that fit with the theme” she clicked the remote again and the full image of the _Lovers in Moonlight_ appeared beside two sigil concepts. 

“I do love that painting” Ashara said and Sansa saw Brienne fidget in her chair. 

“I use the elements that I thought worked, which is the fading of the stars at the top and bottom of the painting, and I brought in the paintings unique style of impressionism and the Italian masters” Sansa reasoned, turning away from the painting. 

“I love the way you created the frame with the stars, rather than a hard line or element” Ashara added. 

“I feel that, while your main logomark is very traditional and firm, bringing in a softer, romantic element would compliment it and catch the eye” Sansa explained. 

“And you do that by stealing art?” Brienne’s smug voice chimed in and the room fell silent. 

_And here. We. Fucking. Go._ Sansa braced herself. 

“What?” Jaime looked to Brienne, undisguised shock etched on his features. “Perhaps this is something we should discuss--”

“That art, _Lovers in Moonlight_, it doesn’t belong to her” Brienne spoke over him, determined to prove her point. “It was originally done by a woman named Alayne Stone, who retired and doesn’t license her work” she looked to Sansa, her blue eyes cold. “So how do you have permission to use it?” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa watched Ashara smile as she sipped her water, “Brienne--” Sansa used her calmest voice but the woman pushed on. 

“I spoke with Alayne’s agent, and she doesn’t allow her work to be used.” 

“Is that true?” Jaime turned back to Sansa and the doubt in his eyes shattered her heart. How could he not trust her? Trust her integrity? 

“You’ve blatantly stolen artwork, plagiarism isn’t a joke.” 

“No” Sansa agreed. “But I find that you are.” 

Brienne froze, “What?”

“Sansa?” Jaime looked tormented.

Sansa looked to Ashara with a contrite smile, “I apologize for the diversion, allow me to address this and I can continue with the presentation.”

“It’s no problem” Ashara nodded. 

“The painting _Lovers in Moonlight_, was done by a woman named Alayne Stone, yes. Alayne painted in the Vale for many years and while she had several gallery showings and sold all of her work, her passion for it is steeped in pain and she set her brushes aside” she explained. “Alayne does not allow licensing of her work, and the original _Lovers in Moonlight_ hangs in the private home of the man in the painting.” 

At this, Jaime’s eyes went to the screen behind her, his eyes assessing the image of the dark haired older man with the young, red-headed queen. Wasn't it obvious? 

“And you’ve stolen--”

“I cannot steal from myself, Brienne” Sansa interrupted her and the larger woman’s face scrunched in confusion. 

“What?” 

“_I’m_ Alayne Stone” Sansa stated plainly. “Me” she added and when no one spoke, she continued. “The website and online gallery of my work is kept and maintained as a promise and the man you spoke to on the phone, Petyr Baelish, is both the man in the painting and Alayne’s mouthpiece.”

“He…”

“He called me yes” Sansa said when Brienne’s words failed and her mouth gaped like a fish. “I haven’t spoken to him since he broke my heart, but he knew that something was deeply wrong when you called. He is, for all his failures, not a stupid man.” 

Jaime was watching Sansa closely now and she felt his assessing gaze like a bucket of ice water. 

In for a penny...

She unlocked her tablet and turned it to face Brienne, who slumped in defeat. On the screen was the original image that she had used for _Lovers in Moonlight_, a photograph of her and Petyr that had been taken without their knowledge, but the moment she saw it, she knew that she had to paint it. 

In the photograph, Petyr wore his usual three-piece suit and Sansa wore a clinging black dress; but it was the way his arm was around her back, hand splayed wide across bare flesh, her high heels in his free hand as they shared a private dancing moment that she had to capture in her own style. There was no mistaking that the painting had come from the photograph. None. 

Sansa shook her head, “You know, if you had come to me in a professional manner, I would have happily explained to you that I value my integrity and would _never_ plagiarize another’s work. But you went behind my back. You tried to end my career, for what? Petty jealousy?” Sansa shook her head. “Ridiculous. Now if you’ll excuse me, Brienne, I believe I have a meeting to continue” she crossed to the conference room door and opened it. Brienne reluctantly stood, looking both baffled and contrite, and as she lumbered out the door, she couldn’t even meet Sansa’s eyes. 

Coward.

Jaime, who had been sitting frozen with his head in his hands, stood as well, following Brienne from the room without looking at Sansa. She briefly closed her eyes against the tide of pain and turned away, back to her presentation. 

“Well” Ashara smiled brightly. “That was fantastic.” 

Sansa gave a weak smile, “I am very sorry.” 

“We were properly warned” Ashara waved her hand. “Besides, I really do love that design” she motioned to the _Lovers in Moonlight_ on screen. “I don’t suppose he would ever sell the painting?” 

Sansa shook her head, “No. It's all he has left of us.”

“Understandable” Ashara sighed. “Nonetheless, let’s go with this one,” she said. “I don’t need to think about it, I just love it.” 

“Thank you, I will set things in motion” Sansa said as Ashara and Edric stood. 

“And Sansa” Ashara said. “I meant what I said, about my business being yours should you and _Casterly_ part ways.” 

“Thank you” Sansa shook their hands. “I will let you know.” 

After walking them to the elevator, Sansa stopped in the washroom to splash a bit of cool water on her face. Looking into the mirror she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to settle her heartbeat. She hated everything about what had happened in the conference room. She hated being the bad guy, hated games and traps, hated being what Petyr taught her to be.

Drying her face, she walked down the hall to her office, unsurprised to find Jaime standing near the floor to ceiling windows. Carefully she closed the door and faced him.

“Jaime” Sansa said softly in the heavy silence of the room. 

“Was all that necessary?”

“What?” 

“All that” he turned to face her, his emerald eyes full of torment. 

“Do you really think, for a second, that I wanted this?” 

“You sure seemed prepared” he stated. 

“I am not a stupid woman, Jaime” she glared. “I saw the writing on the wall, I saw what was coming. While you seem determined to believe that Brienne is not in love with you, my eyes have been wide open.” 

“This is why you’ve been distant this past week,” he said. “Why didn’t you come to me?” 

“Would you even have believed me?” she countered. “No. Just like you didn’t believe Cersei or my previous warnings. You could have trusted that I knew something was wrong!”

“You could have told me about Alayne” he reasoned. “You could have trusted me!”

That stung.

“I don’t talk or think about Alayne, not if I don’t have to. The only reason I showed the _Lovers in Moonlight_ to Ashara was because I knew it was exactly what she was looking for and I thought, perhaps, some good could come of the painting that I spent so much time on. It wouldn’t have been an issue if Brienne had kept to her own business.”

“Everything is a mess” he shook his head. “My oldest friend flinging accusations, my girlfriend is keeping secrets and my senior designer, Bronn, has given his two weeks notice as of this morning.” 

“What?” Sansa frowned. 

“It became apparent to Stannis that you were not going to budge, so he took his inside man, Bronn, instead. Gotta hand it to Bronn, always chasing the bigger payoff” Jaime explained. “So you see, Brienne isn’t the demon---”

“Excuse me!” Sansa interjected. “Excuse. Me. She isn't the demon? She just accused me of theft in the middle of a client meeting, Jaime, did you conveniently forget what you just saw?” 

“I will never forget that” he said sadly. 

“Are you even going to fire her? Discipline her? Gods, do you even believe me now?” 

“Fire her? She’s been my friend for over a decade---”

“Oh my Gods” Sansa laughed, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.” She stepped around him and grabbed her jacket and purse. 

“Sansa--” he reached for her arm but she turned away.

“I hope that you and Brienne are very happy together, Jaime” she spat, more furious than she had ever been in her life. 

“You can’t be serious,” he argued. 

“I am” she tugged on her coat. 

“That’s it? Just like that” he scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Yes” it broke her heart to say the word, to do this. But she wasn’t going to stick around and wait for the inevitable pain. “I don’t want this. I hate this, in fact. But I am not going to wait around for you to break my heart and choose her.” 

Without giving him the opportunity to speak, having said her peace, she turned on her heel and strode from the office. Eyes followed her as she moved and she was sure that by now, gossip had exploded amongst the others in the office. 

Reaching the elevator as the doors chimed and opened, she saw the tall, leonin figure of the Great Lion emerge, his cold eyes immediately locking on hers. 

“Miss. Stark--”

“Good day, Mr. Lannister” she cut him off, stepping into the elevator and holding the ‘door close’ button until it was carrying her downwards, toward the lobby and to her escape. 

To her credit, she made it three blocks over before she sank onto a park bench, the sound of dogs and children playing echoing around her. Resting her elbows on her knees, she covered her face with her hands, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should we take a poll on whether or not this swaps to Stansa? LOL jkjk


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to be blown away with your love and support of this story. I know the last chapter was a shit storm, so I am grateful you're sticking with me!! (or at least hope you are sticking with me). THANK YOU all SO much for your comments, feedback and kudos. <3 
> 
> Per popular vote, a Stansa AU will happen, but this story will stay on course. 
> 
> Also, a Petyr/Sansa prequal has been mentioned and if y'all want that I may be able to swing that too. 
> 
> Just a reminder, the picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189074729641/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/) and don't forget [THIS](https://dmchnknst.tumblr.com/post/189310978700/inspired-by-the-magnificent-fic-sans-serif-by/) amazing picset from 'dmchnknst'! And we can all 'blame' dmchnknst for this story anyway ;) ;)

Jaime felt the slamming of his office door like a physical blow, the noise echoing through him, doing nothing to calm his mind. What a shit storm, he wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs. Truthfully, he just wanted to cry, and he hadn't cried since he was ten and two when he’d just lost his mother. 

He felt his father’s cold eyes watching him, boring holes through his being as he paced. Of course the Great Lion would come down from the top floor to rain hell on him today, of fucking course. 

In a fit of anger, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and threw it across the office, not caring as it skittered across his desk and knocked several items to the floor. Yanking his tie free he tossed that away too, though it was still hard to breathe.

_Fuck it, fuck the paperclips_, he thought. _Fuck the stapler, fuck the paperwork, fuck all of it._

After several long moments of heavy silence, he took a deep breath and turned to his father, “Alright. Say it.” 

“You’re a fucking moron” Tywin replied without hesitation and Jaime barked out a self-deprecating laugh, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the strands. The action, however, did little to comfort him. In fact, it made it worse, reminding him of how Sansa loved to hold on to the overly long locks while he was buried between her legs--or deep inside her.

Fuck. He might never get to feel either of those feelings again... 

“Apparently!”

“Truly” Tywin glared, crossing his arms now as Jaime resumed his pacing. “First thing this morning I hear about Bronn and now--Gods Jaime, tell me it isn’t true?” 

“Which part?” Jaime countered. “Bronn spying for STAG? Brienne accusing Sansa of theft in the middle of a fucking client meeting? Or Sansa walking out on me-- on Casterly? Cause, I’ll be honest _Dad_, I am really not in the mood to talk about the last one.” 

“Don’t you take that tone with me, you arrogant little shit, this is not my fault! You’ve let this get out of hand,” Tywin reasoned, his voice calm but laced with razor blades. “Were you anyone but my son, you’d be fired. Immediately. I’d have you out on your ass making rattan sandals on the sidewalk so quickly your head would spin.”

“Fire me then” Jaime met his father’s eyes without care. “Fire me.” 

“Not a chance” Tywin replied smugly. “Not only are you my son, but you love your job, you always have. However this mess? This is because you refuse to take a stand to those around you and refused to take what you want. You’ve been coasting through life, Jaime, and the coast has come to an end” Tywin stroked his chin briefly before recrossing his arms. “You’ve had to have always known that Brienne is in love with you Jaime, Gods, anyone in the world could see it. But you’re too nice, too friendly, and dare I say, too good looking. The last is my own fault, I presume” he chuckled to himself. 

“Funny” Jaime quipped sarcastically. 

“No, you’ve made this mess. I am not going to make it easy and fix it for you by firing you. You are the one that needs to fix this.” 

“I need to go after Sansa” Jaime said quietly. “I have to--”

“You go after her right now and all you will do is argue. She’s pissed, and I can’t blame her, I wouldn’t even be surprised if she decked you,” he shook his head. “Let her cool off while you see to getting your shit together.” 

“What does that entail?” 

“You have twenty-four hours to fire Brienne Tarth, or I will do it for you and I promise you Jaime, you will not like how I handle the situation. If it were up to me that woman would never work in this city again. She was a childish, unprofessional fool, and I will not suffer her working at Casterly a moment longer. I’d hand her her final check and a one-way ferry ticket back to the fucking Sapphire Isle.” 

Jaime watched his father for several moments before he gave a reluctant nod, “Alright. Done.” 

“I am not concerned about Bronn” Tywin admitted. “He’s a paper chaser and greedy little man, let him chase the payoff at STAG. However---”

“I know” Jaime sighed. “I know…”

“Sansa going to STAG would be completely unacceptable. As soon as word spreads, he will be hunting her without fail. You send her to STAG and you might as well buy her and Stannis a wedding gift, because that man is not stupid enough to let a woman like her get away. You send her into his arms and there is no going back.”

Jaime glared at his father, feeling his heart racing, “I won’t let that happen.”

“Oh?” 

“No” Jaime yelled. “Absolutely not!”

“How do you intend to do that?”

“I don’t--I don’t fucking know” Jaime growled, pacing to the window where he braced his hands against the glass and squeezed his eyes shut. Everything hurt, his mind, his body, his heart, all of it hurt as he tried to figure out how the _fuck_ he was going to fix this. 

“You grovel, Jaime” Tywin’s voice was softer now, nearly a whisper as he felt his father’s presence beside him. “You grovel like you’ve never groveled before. You throw yourself at her feet, literally if you have to, and you promise to be the man she hoped you were.”

“Yeah…”

“_After_ you've fired Brienne” Tywin added and Jaime sighed. “There are always sides to be chosen in war, and in this war you have to choose Sansa or Brienne. The woman you love or the fool who tried to destroy the woman you love.”

“Seeing that painting--that photo” Jaime kept his eyes closed tight as the image of Sansa and the other man danced behind his eyelids. “Her with him--” 

“Is the past” Tywin reasoned. “Do you think past relationships are so threatening? If they were, I imagine Tysha would have run screaming from Tyrion long ago. You have to accept that, like yourself, she was involved with people before she met you. But that was before she _met_ you, it has no bearing on the future.”

“She loved him.” 

“Once perhaps, and while I haven’t seen these images, I have seen the way she looks at you,” Tywin said grimly. “And I saw the way she looked when she left just now.” 

“I screwed up” Jaime admitted. 

“As Lancel would say, ‘Duh’,” Tywin snarked and Jaime gave a sad laugh. 

“I never wanted to hurt anyone. I tried to be gentle with Brienne, to be her friend and a good boss. I thought she would grow out of it, fuck. Now...when it came to it, I hurt the last person I would have wanted to hurt.”

“So now you take steps” Tywin explained. “The first of which is to pull your head out of your ass.” 

“Fuck, Dad” Jaime laughed. “Gentle parenting style you have there.” 

“This is not a time for gentle, Jaime. This is a wake up call” Tywin assured him. “So wake up, or I will see you at Stannis’ wedding to Sansa.” 

“That’s not going to happen” Jaime cut in to promise once again. 

But Tywin continued, “Drinking expensive wine, eating a gourmet meal and watching that stoic bastard kiss his pretty young wife. I imagine their wedding night will be lovely---”

“Like fucking hell!” Jaime turned on his father, his voice echoing in the office. “That is not going to happen!”

“Rumors of Robet’s prowess run rampant, I am sure Stannis is the same. All those Baratheon men. She’ll be pregnant in less than a year---”

“No! Never!” 

“Why not?” Tywin shrugged and Jaime had never wanted to hit a man more in his life than he did in that moment.

“Because he can’t have her!” His father had goaded him, urged him into a fury and he felt the blood racing through his system, carrying indignant and determination at high speed. No, this was a future that could never happen. Never.

“Why. Not.”

“Because I love her!” 

“Then prove it” Tywin challenged. “And not just to me, but to the woman whose heart you just shit on in front of the entire office, and a client, I might add.” 

“Watch me,” Jaime promised darkly and Tywin’s smirk served only as encouragement. “Just watch me”

Sansa gave herself fifteen minutes of crying on the bench before she pushed herself to her feet, not bothering to wipe the tears and ruined makeup from her face. She could sit and wallow forever if she let herself, but she wasn’t going to do that. She had to be strong, she had to...go. She caught a cab to her apartment, quickly ducking inside. 

Her feet were ushered by heartache, teetering on panic as she shucked her work clothes and stepped into a scalding shower. She scrubbed clean, ridding herself of her makeup, her professional hairstyle and any last remnants of her meeting at work. 

She was still angry as she towelled herself off--furious, in fact, but she was so heartbroken that it hurt to breathe. Jaime had as good as made his alliance known. Brienne was his _friend_ and he saw no need to demonize her, Sansa laughed to herself as she combed her hair and quickly plaited it over one shoulder. 

“Demon” she muttered. “Fucking psycho.” 

She pulled on a pair of ancient jeans and a baggy sweater over her plain bra and underwear, and when she finished tying her pale pink converse, she grabbed a duffel bag from the hall closet and started shoving clothing and necessities inside. 

She didn’t pay much attention to what she grabbed, not really caring about makeup or fashion at the moment, but she grabbed enough for a few days along with her phone charger and laptop, tucking it into its respective bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She froze at her desk, staring at the untouched sketchbook and pencil case . Before she could stop herself she impulsively shoved them both into her computer bag.

Pulling up the car service app, she summoned a car and typed in the familiar destination address, knowing that once she reached it, things would be better. They had to be.

She paused in the hallway mirror, looking at her reflection for several moments. She looked like she had many years ago, straight out of college...heartbroken then too. She closed her eyes on a fresh wave of tears, clenching her jaw to keep the whimper hidden in her chest. 

She had promised herself that she wasn't going to get her heartbroken again, she thought it was safe with Jaime. Afterall, he was a known playboy and never kept women around long enough to get attached. Right?

“Stupid” she turned away from the mirror and grabbed her coat, purse and keys. With a final glance around, she locked the door behind her with a shaky hand and made her way back downstairs and into the waiting car. 

Jaime stood in the office window, staring out over the city and wishing he could be anywhere but here. No, not anywhere. Where he wanted to be was with Sansa, wherever she was, he just wanted her. 

A knock at the door turned his attention back to the matter at hand, “Brienne, come in” he greeted her, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. It looked as is Brienne had been crying, her face red and eyes puffy, but he would not let him lose his focus. He couldn’t. Not when there was so much on the line. 

Tywin stood tall in the corner, serving as witness according to company protocol. To cover any liability or miscommunication, they always had a witness in the room for terminations. 

“Brienne--”

“Before you begin,” Brienne cut in. “I would like to apologize for my behavior today. It was unprofessional. I let my...emotion get in the way of my professionalism.” 

“You did” Jaime agreed, nodding as he folded his hands on his lap. “You embarrassed this company and yourself. Accusations of plagiarism and theft should be addressed behind closed doors and yet you aired them like dirty laundry. You tried to humiliate a senior designer in front of a multi-million dollar customer and you acted like a child.”

“I did and I am sorry.” 

“I have counted you as one of my closest friends for many years” Jaime explained. “I trusted you inherently, and because of this, I allowed you many freedoms here at Casterly. Too many, it seems, as you have taken things beyond the point of return.” 

“I understand” she whispered. 

“As of now, your employment at Casterly is at an end” he lifted the manila envelope and set it on the edge of the desk closest to her. “Inside is your final paycheck and compensation for any vacation hours that you had pending” she reached for the envelope and he hated the pain in her eyes. 

He had always hated, even avoided, confrontation and being the ‘bad guy’, but he took a deep breath and continued. This woman, his friend, had hurt Sansa deeply, had tried to destroy her and he could not forgive that. He loved Sansa, more than anything, and he had hurt her to defend a woman who had shown her true colors today. A woman who had shown that she wasn’t worthy of his friendship and trust.

“I understand” she repeated softly, taking the envelope into her lap.

“I cannot ask that you write Sansa a letter of apology for your behavior, I am not even sure you are sorry--likely sorry you were wrong and you didn’t ruin her career. But should you ever wish to apologize, send it to me and I will see that she gets it. She does not deserve your hatred, Brienne, and I am sorry that feelings have gotten in the way of you seeing that.” 

“We cannot control who we love” Brienne said sadly. 

“No” Jaime agreed. “But we can control how we handle rejection of that love, and you have handled it abohrently. I would have always been your friend, Brienne, but I cannot continue that friendship when you have shown your vicious streak. Thank you for your years of hard work and dedication to Casterly. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.”

She stood and he followed suit, offering her hand and he shook it briefly, “Thank you, Jaime” she said softly and he gave a small nod before she turned away and left his office. Security would watch as she packed her personal belongings and then see that she was escorted from the building without incident. 

Jaime took a deep breath, believing the worst of the day to be over. He adjusted his tie, loosening it for the second time today and felt exhaustion course over him. However, as Brienne left, the scowling, golden face of his twin awaited him in the doorway. 

Cersei was wearing jeans-- _jeans_, he didn’t even know she owned a pair, a deep grey sweater that was too big and clearly not her own and her hair was a bit of a mess...where had she been? Rather, who had she been _with_. 

For the second--or was it third? time that day, his office door slammed behind her as she stormed inside, clearly furious.

“Cersei--” 

“Are you absolutely fucking insane!?” Cersei yelled and Jaime could practically _hear_ his father’s proud smile behind him. 

The car pulled along the curb of the familiar Victorian house and she smiled at the crisply painted gingerbread trim and the ancient runes carved into their details. This home had always been her solace, her escape, a place where she could run to when the world was too much. 

She grabbed her bags and tipped the driver before he pulled away as she made her way past the bronze historical plaque on the gated walkway to the porch. She could recite that plaque by heart, often reading it aloud as a little girl. She even had a rubbing of it in one of her old sketchbooks, a piece to carry with her through art school. 

‘Runestone’, she had always thought it was the most romantic name in the world. A small piece of history on the edge of Lannisport. Her very own ‘castle’. The yard was as well kept as ever and the rich scent of lavender reached her nostrils as she reached the steps. 

The door opened before she even reached it, the tall, broad form and shock of white hair greeting her, “Princess?” 

She gave a watery smile and then burst into tears, the dam on her emotion breaking loose at the single word. As her duffel bag hit the porch, his strong arms banded around her and she sobbed into the solid wall of his chest. This--his hug had always been more important to her than any other, had always been safety and protection. 

“Shh, shh Princess” he soothed her, running his hand over her hair, but she only cried harder, clinging to his aran jumper and surrounding herself in his leather and lemon scent. 

Should she have ever been allowed to choose the man that she called ‘father’, she would have chosen Yohn Royce in an instant. It wasn’t that she disliked or didn’t love her father, Eddard Stark, but Eddard had never tried to understand her. He had never listened, not truly, and he was always so busy with Arya and her brothers that she never found a way to relate to ‘Ned’ Stark. 

Yohn, however, from the very first had understood her romantic heart and love of whimsy. He did, afterall, live in a historical home filled with old books and tales of chivalry. He was kind, if reticent, but he had always been her fiercest protector and true father. 

They had met because Yohn was a friend of her mother’s, an ‘uncle’ that had always been at family gatherings and holidays and she always looked forward to seeing him. He took time to understand her, to encourage her and as she grew older, she became the daughter that he never had. 

Once upon a time, he had cautioned her about her relationship with Petyr, expressing his distrust of the older professor but she had assured him that Petyr wasn’t going to hurt her. Unfortunately, Petyr made a liar out of her and Yohn’s worst fears proved correct. She should have listened to him then and saved herself a heap of heartache. Regardless, Yohn had supported her choice and even helped her move from the Vale when time came to leave Petyr behind forever. 

“Come” he picked up her bag and ushered her inside, the warmth of the fireplace reaching her and soothing her as he closed the door. She set her laptop bag and purse on the couch, crossing to the stone mantle to warm her hands by the fireplace for a few minutes. 

Not one to hover or stand idle, Yohn made his way into the kitchen where she heard the familiar sounds of him putting the kettle on, a series of sounds that was a balm to her soul. 

“Now then” he smiled as he returned, hand her a handkerchief before placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Who do I have to kill?”

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh, the sound awkward and watery as she wiped her eyes, “Why are men so stupid?” 

“Depends on the man” Yohn reasoned. “Some are born stupid, some acheive stupid and some have stupid thrust upon them” he paused with a smile, “Or was that greatness?” 

Before she could reply, the whistle of the kettle filled the kitchen and Yohn got to work fixing them both the hot toddies that they would need for this conversation. He returned with two mugs, both brightly painted a garish pink and grey with an unskilled hand, and they made her smile. 

She knew without looking, there was a heart and an ‘S’ on the bottom of each one. She had made these mugs in her first ceramics class when she was ten and two years old. She had spent the summer at Runestone and Yohn had surprised her with the class, it only made sense that she gift the mugs to him.

“I am sorry to show up unannounced” she said softly. She took a sip of the tea and instantly felt better, the rich whisky and lemon warming her from the inside.

“Don’t be” he assured her. “You’ve only interrupted a busy afternoon of reading and scoffing at idiots on the internet.” 

“A busy schedule to be sure” she agreed as they sat on the sofa in front of the fire. “I think...I think I quit my job today.” 

“You think?” 

“I mean, I walked out” she shrugged, wiping her eyes as she flopped back against the cushions like she had since she was a little girl.

“I think you should start from the beginning, eh?” he prompted and she took a deep breath. She steeled her heart and told him everything from the day of the bet to now. She made sure to gloss over any sexual interactions for both of their sakes, her ‘father’ didn’t need to hear about those.

Stannis had his head bent over several layouts when the broad form of his brother filled the doorway to his office. Grimacing, Stannis looked over Robert’s casual appearance, from his jeans to his polo shirt and blazer. Robert always was the most relaxed of the Baratheon brothers, though this look was likely due to Robert’s two hour ‘lunch’ today. 

“Robert” Stannis greeted, rising to his full height. Both of them were well over six-feet tall, but while Stannis’ form was lean, Robert was roped with muscle and a bit of extra weight from the last few years. Still, they were both dark of hair, light of eye and intimidating when opposed. 

They were still, at the heart, quite the opposite. Robert was outgoing and jovial, always the life of the party and Stannis preferred silence and stoicism. Even Renly was radically different from them, and it seemed to Stannis that the Baratheon brothers would never meet on common ground beyond simply being ‘Baratheons’. 

“Don’t look so glum” Robert smiled, entering his office and closing the door behind him. “I come with good tidings.” 

“Spare me the recap of your two-hour lunch” Stannis shook his head. “Whoever she was, I don’t--” 

“It’s been the same woman for a year, Stan, you paint me out to be some sort of a whore” Robert laughed and Stannis fixed him with a knowing look. “Alright, suppose I was in my younger years.” 

“Younger years, as in last year” Stannis countered. Robert’s expression grew serious, which it rarely did and Stannis felt a shiver of trepidation course over him. “What is it?”

“Who is it” Robert correct. “Been carrying on with Cersei and--”

“Cersei Lannister? You’ve been fucking Cersei fucking Lannister?” Stannis gaped. 

“Such language” Robert smirked. “I thought you were the professional one.” 

“Cersei? Daughter of Tywin, Cersei.” 

“Cersei” Robert shrugged glibly. “The only Cersei I know.” 

“Gods, Robert, are you insane?” Stannis ran a hand over his face.

“Probably, but she fucks like a wildcat” Robert shrugged and Stannis clenched his jaw. “She does this thing with her tongue--”

“I don’t need to hear this.” 

“You do” Robert corrected. “Because today she got a phone call, Gods know why she answered it, my head was between her---”

“Spare. Me.” 

“Right” Robert tucked his hands into his pants pockets. “She shoved me right off her at the news.” 

“News.” 

“Sansa Stark walked out of Casterly today.” 

Stannis’ body went still, “What?” 

“Seems there was a bit of a problem and she walked out on _Casterly_,” Robert smugly smiled, knowing that he had Stannis’ full attention now. “Still want me to ‘spare you’, brother?”

“Tell me everything.” 

Robert’s chuckle filled the office. 

“Now.”


	8. Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if y'all know this or not....but I love you. You are all SO fucking amazing, its blows me away. Thank you SO much for your love, support and patience! 
> 
> Also, it makes me cackle with glee that Stannis is SO damn hot y'all can't resist him! I mean...mood!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next installment.

“Cersei---” 

“No, I mean it! What the fuck are you thinking?” she continued, looking to Tywin in confusion who only gave a small shrug in response. 

Jaime clenched his jaw and discarded his tie, “I’ve already been run the riot act by one Lannister today, I don’t need--”

“Prepare for another one because I am just baffled” she shook her head. “What the hell, Jaime? I told you, I told you about Brienne!”

“Cersei---” 

“I told you that she was a problem, that her attachment to you was not normal and she was going to start boiling bunny rabbits! Gods, Jaime---”

“And I didn’t listen, you were right. Happy?”

“Fuck you” Cersei spat without pause. “You enjoyed the ego boost of someone fawning all over your golden dick so much that it has cost you Sansa! Sansa who I actually like! I don't like anyone!”

“You date her then, Cersei” Jaime glared. “Or are you too busy with your affections elsewhere?” he added, looking to her baggy sweater, and had the satisfaction of seeing her facade drop. It was only for a second, however, because an instant later, fury filled her emerald eyes. 

“Don’t try to shove this back at me” she hissed. “You need to fix this. You need to get Sansa back.” 

“As soon as I figure out how, I will” Jaime assured her.

“Yeah well you better do it fast” Cersei said softly. 

“What? Why?” Jaime’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?” 

“I was… sorta with someone, when I got the call” Cersei admitted. 

“Who?” Jaime prompted. 

“Does it really matter?” she asked, looking between them. 

“With who?” Tywin interjected, watching his oldest children closely. 

“Robert.”

“Robert Baratheon?” Tywin roared, rising to his full height, clearly furious with both of the twins now.

“You’re joking” Jaime choked out. 

“You cannot be serious?!”

“You’re fucking joking, tell me you’re joking!?” Jaime continued. 

“No” she whispered. 

“Fuck” Jaime grabbed his overcoat and pulled it on quickly. “Thanks for your help, sis!”

“Oh get bent toolbag, you fucked this up all on your own!” she countered as he stormed from the office. 

He almost felt bad about leaving Cersei alone to explain to the Great Lion why she was with Robert Baratheon in the middle of the afternoon on a work day. Almost.

He bypassed the elevator and ran to the stairs, hoping it would be faster because if Robert knew, then Stannis would know and he wouldn’t allow Stannis to poach her away. Professionally or otherwise. 

He had fucked up, badly. He knew that and had admitted as such, he just had no idea how to fix it. He’d fired Brienne and the more he thought about his ‘friends’ behavior towards Sansa, the madder he got about it. It was fortunate that he was able to fire her before more of his temper had built. 

“Fuck” he muttered, all but jogging through the lobby and out front where he hailed a cab. Quickly spouting off Sansa’s address, he did his best to relax against the seat. He raised a trembling hand to his face, covering his nose and mouth as he tried to figure out just how the fuck he was going to get her to listen to him, let alone get her to forgive him. 

Grovelling, his father had said, like he’d never grovelled before. 

Wouldn’t he hard, he supposed, he’d never grovelled before. He hadn’t cared enough to, if he were being honest. He had never been serious about a woman, not before Sansa. Sure, he’d had affairs and one night stands, but never anything where he looked forward to waking up beside her the next morning. 

No, just Sansa. 

“Fuck” he growled, slamming his hand against the door panel. 

“Easy pal” the cab driver warned, shaking his head. 

“Sorry” Jaime muttered weakly, gripping the door handle. 

“Rough day?” the driver asked. 

“You have no idea” Jaime sighed. 

“Must’ve been some fuck up” the driver scoffed. 

“You have _no_ idea” Jaime repeated and the driver only nodded in agreement as he turned down Sansa’s street. 

Jaime felt sick, nearly throwing up on himself at the sight of the sleek black Mercedes parked along the street. Relief coursed through him when he saw the driver’s door open and Stannis Baratheon emerged. _Good, he’s just gotten here_ Jaime threw a panicked amount of cash at the driver and was outside the car and running as soon as it was stopped.

“She’s not here” the doorman shook his head, recognizing Jaime straight away. “Can’t let you in, sorry.”

“Did she say where she went?” Jaime asked the older man. 

“No, just left with a bunch of bags, I couldn’t tell ya” he shrugged, turning away to hold the door for a couple exiting the building. 

“Fuck” Jaime swore softly, pulling at his hair. His eyes locked with Stannis’, both of them sizing each other up without a word. 

“Lannister” Stannis broke the silence, both of them standing in front of her apartment building, several feet apart. 

“Baratheon.”

“Heard some interesting news today” Stannis stated, watching him with those sharp, hawkish eyes of his. 

“Did you?” Jaime countered.

“It was only a matter of time before you broke her heart---” 

“Her heart is none of your business, Baratheon” Jaime growled. To the passersby, it must have looked like a gunslingers’ stand-off, two tall men in overcoats, staring each other down on the cement, tension ripe in the air. All they needed was a tumbleweed.

“Perhaps not” Stannis conceded, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement. “Nor is it yours, from what I hear.” 

“You’re nothing but a vulture” Jaime stated. “Hasn’t even been four hours and you’re already circling.” 

“Circling the corpse of her career at Casterly, surely” Stannis gave a mocking frown. “Seems perfect timing to me. She is a talented woman, she deserves a positive environment where she can _explore_ that talent.” 

“You’re only trying to antagonize me” Jaime scoffed. “You don’t have a chance and you know it.” 

“You’ve imagined me to be some sort of sinister man in black, a predator that is hunting innocent young women, Lannister” Stannis chuckled and shook his head. “That couldn’t be farther from the truth. My company is the best and I seek to hire the best.” 

“Like Bronn?”

“Bronn isn’t the best, he simply could be bought” Stannis countered. “Men like that always serve a purpose. I do not trust him nor do I expect him to stay long.” 

“And you expect me to stand by while you use Sansa the same way?” 

“I would never use Sansa, as you so boldly accuse” Stannis’ jaw clenched and he stepped closer. While Jaime was tall, Stannis was just a hair taller but he would never let the man physically intimidate him. Especially not today. 

“Leave her alone.” 

“No.” 

Jaime gave a dark laugh, “She loves me.”

“Does she? Has she ever said so?” Stannis verbally jabbed and Jaime frowned. “I thought as much. Love you or not, she certainly doesn’t ‘like’ you right now, Lannister. So you can quit yapping at my ankles like a damn dog any time now” his voice was a dangerous hiss and Jaime felt his hackles rise. 

“You son of a---”

“You know nothing about women, Jaime. You use them and discard them, very much like my brother in that regard. Respecting one--loving one is entirely different” Stannis explained. “And you cannot keep one if you make her unhappy.” 

“Says the man who has never married.” 

“I don’t need to be married to know that making people miserable is a poor tactic” Stannis said, adjusting his coat. “And you’ll likely be surprised to hear that some men don’t sleep with women they don’t intend to keep.” 

“Yeah well I may ‘know nothing about women’ but I do know one thing” Jaime smirked, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Her cell phone number” he dialed as he turned away and hailed a cab. He left the man in black on the sidewalk as he ducked into the backseat, praying that she would answer. 

He was half a block away when her voicemail came on the other end of the line and he swore to himself. Debating on whether or not to hang up, he allowed the message to finished and when the beep sounded he paused….

“San...please call me. We need to talk and I--fuck, Sansa, please….” he choked back a wave of overwhelming emotion. “Just call me, please” he lowered the phone and ended the call with a sigh, “I love you” he said into the empty cab, resting his forehead against the cool glass of the window as the city screamed by.

Sansa stood in the living room of Runestone, her eyes roaming over every detail and memory of the painting that had hung on the wall for a decade. It was her first piece steeped in realism and, as tradition, it belonged to Yohn. 

It sat in a gilded frame, the one she had found at a second hand shop and repainted, proudly displayed above the fireplace. The painting was of the man himself, her fierce protector in bronze armor looking every inch the medieval warrior. She had taken meticulous care on every detail, working in the runes and ancient history of the Royce house. 

“You are very talented” Yohn said softly, appearing beside her with a cup of tea. “You always have been” he stood beside her, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders as he sipped her tea. 

“I suppose I did alright” she replied, leaning against his strength.

She had been hidden away at Runestone for several days now, her cell phone and laptop turned off and in her bag. She had told Yohn everything and he had listened intently and held her while she sobbed out her frustrations. 

She had expressed her worry about not telling Jaime about Alayne, Yohn had offered that they’d only been dating a few months and both Petyr and Alayne were years in the past. Alayne was, for all intents and purposes, dead, and there was no need to resurrect her until she and Jaime were sure of their relationship, if ever. 

He had asked why she was so certain that Jaime would pick Brienne and she tried to explain the way Jaime always defended Brienne or reasoned her behavior away. Yohn had countered with agreement but skepticism, stating that Jaime had never shown romantic interest in Brienne or any other woman before Sansa, so perhaps his choice wasn’t so obvious. Perhaps she had left before he could choose her, he suggested. 

She was unsure if he was right on that one. Would it have mattered if she stayed? She didn’t know. All she did know was that she couldn’t bear to stick around to watch Jaime pick someone else. 

_ “You love him, then” Yohn gave her that soft, fatherly smile of his that made her want to cry._

_ “Stupid, isn’t it?” she whispered. _

_ “Love is never stupid, Princess. Painful and sometimes suffering, but never stupid. The only stupid thing would be is for him not to love you in return. _

“You should pick up the brushes again” Yohn encouraged softly. 

“It hurts too much,” she whispered. 

“Now that’s just letting the sons o’ bitches win” he smirked and she laughed softly, blinking away tears. “You let ‘Creepy Pete’ win once, and it broke my heart to see you pack away your paints and brushes.”

“I can’t believe you still call him that” Sansa smirked. 

“It’s still true, therefore I still use it” he determined. “I remember watching you paint, every year you’d get a little older--I never got older mind you, I am still only forty” he winked and she laughed. “But you would get older, honing your skill and before long painting was easier than breathing. Your Mother, Gods bless her, she never understood. But I did. You painted with your heart and without painting, you’re incomplete.” 

“It hurts…”

“And it will for a time. It may always be a twinge, but still, Princess, it's a part of the fabric of your soul. Besides, you’re tough--” 

“Hardly.” 

“Made of steel, not porcelain.” 

“I owe that to you” she admitted. 

“You owe that to yourself” he corrected. “Steel is stronger, sharper than bronze.” 

“You’ve always had more faith in me than I did myself,” she said. 

“I’ve made no secret of that” he sipped his tea. “Its what fathers do.” 

She gave a nod, fresh tears on her cheeks, “I screwed up too, didn’t I?” 

He shook his head, “Trust doesn’t come easily. Not after Petyr, not after Cat.” 

“I didn’t want to get hurt, I thought it would be casual” she sighed. “Guess that didn’t go as planned.” 

“Few things ever do. You could’ve told him about Alayne and Petyr, sure. But he could have pulled his head out of his ass too. Lannisters were always a bit slow on the take.” Sansa laughed and when he finished his tea he continued. “But we’re here now and you have to decide if the ‘juice is worth the squeeze’, as cliche as it sounds. Is the lion worth forgiving? Can you forgive him if you don’t trust him?” 

“And if he chooses her?”

“Plan A.” 

“Plan A?”

“We have him killed.”

“Yohn!” she laughed loudly and he tightened his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss on the crown of her hair. 

“There’s my princess” he smiled brightly. “Now quit admiring my portrait and come eat dinner with your favorite old man.” 

“Favorite?” Sansa scoffed. “Whoever told you that lie?” she teased as they made their way into the kitchen together. 

Jaime looked like shit. 

No, truly, Tyrion noted as he watched his big brother pace the penthouse. He hadn’t shaved, his hair was going in a hundred directions and his clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. He looked like a hobo, more a mess than Tyrion had ever seen his polished older brother.

It has, as he understood it, been several days since the blow up and no one had heard from or seen Sansa since. Not that he could blame her, Tyrion supposed. After hearing the recap from Jaime, he was surprised that Sansa hadn’t formally quit on the spot.

Moments ago Jaime had shown up at Tyrion’s apartment frantic and Tyrion had to talk him out of filing a missing persons report with the police. Tyrion did his best to calm him down, even poured him a glass of whisky but the tumbler sat untouched on the coffee table. 

“Jaime, please,” Tyrion chuckled. “My little body can’t keep up with your frantic pacing.” 

“Sorry. Sorry” Jaime sat on the edge of the couch, but a few seconds later he was back on his feet and pacing again. 

Tyrion could only chuckle, shaking his head as he sipped his own drink, “She will surface when she is ready to, Jaime. You can’t just hunt her down.” 

“Why can’t I?”

“Well, firstly, we don’t know where she would go” Tyrion reasoned. 

“She doesn’t talk about her family, I don’t think they’re close” Jaime added. 

“Then give her time, that is what she obviously wants and needs.” 

“No, I just need to see her. I need to apologize, I need to explain things to her.” 

“Things?” 

“That I didn’t choose Brienne over her, that I couldn’t have because I _love_ Sansa” Jaime raised his hands in exasperation. 

“And how do you intend to earn her forgiveness?” 

“I still haven’t figured that part out yet” Jaime said honestly, this time his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Fuck, what a fucking mess.” 

“It isn’t pretty, I’ll give you that” Tyrion agreed. 

“When did you and Tysha decide you were serious?”

Tyrion paused, thinking it over for a second before he replied, “When she told me that she could see us married, if I was ever serious enough about her to marry” he laughed. 

“How long into the relationship was it?” 

“Nearly a year, I believe” Tyrion said. “But not all relationships are the same. I knew that Tysha was different from the start. It wasn’t about the sex--though mind you it was fantastic. But it was about being with her. Being able to fuck someone is easy, but talking to them is harder. Intellectual connections are more important than the physical ones.”

Jaime nodded vaguely, his eyes blank and wide, staring at the opposite wall, “I knew Sansa was different from the first time I talked to her,” he admitted. “She put me in my place and knocked me off balance” he finally turned to meet Tyrion’s gaze. “She cut through the bullshit and called me on being dyslexic during our first shared meal.” 

“She must be very keen, you’ve learned to hide it well.” 

“What am I going to fucking do?” Jaime whispered harshly, his voice riddled with emotion. 

“You wait, Jaime. That is all you can do. And when the time comes that she wishes to speak with you, you beg. If you love her, tell her. If you’re sorry, tell her. If you choose her, for the Gods’ sake tell her.”

“Yeah” Jaime resumed his staring at the wall. “Yeah. And what if...what if she doesn’t listen?” 

“Then you may have to resort to grand gestures…”

Sansa stared at the cardboard box as if it were going to grow teeth and attack her. The hand-writing on the side belonged to a much younger version of herself, but she recognized it well. 

Yohn had to venture into town today on several errands, so she hadn’t expected to see him this morning. However, she also didn’t expect him to leave the box on the kitchen table for her to find when she went in search of her morning coffee. 

Moving cautiously, she removed the lid from the box and set it aside, the contents immediately pulled at her chest, cutting her heart to ribbons. The familiar smell reached her and she could have sobbed, wanted nothing more than to shut the box up and set it on the curb for the garbage men to take. 

Instead, she forced herself to face the past, face the seemingly innocuous items that had once owned her. 

The sketchbook that sat along the long side of the box came out first, the worn paper familiar in her hand, the pages bursting with designs, sketches and layouts. Placing it on the counter she opened the front cover and ran her fingers over the first page. 

It was a simple sketch of her brother Robb, laughing at something as he roasted marshmallows. She smiled at the memory and briefly wondered if he still laughed like he did when he was young. He was older now, married and a father, but she hadn’t seen him in so long…

The next page was a full spread, taking up both the back of the previous page and the new one, and she bit her lip at the pain of seeing Winterfell on the pages. Home, she traced the roofline. Or it once was, anyway. She hadn’t seen it in years either, it could have changed completely by now, and knowing Cat Stark, it had changed in order to keep up with peak interior design. 

Flipping through the sketches of her parents, siblings and home, she paused when she reached the first sketch she ever did of Petyr. He was sitting in the wingback chair in his living room, reading a thick novel with a glass of scotch on the table beside him. He looked regal, elegant and exactly how she had imagined a professor would look at home. 

She’d drawn it the morning after their first night together, smiling widely to the page as she worked quickly to capture the moment. 

Several pages later, a copy of the photograph sat opposite the original sketch for _Lovers in Moonlight_ and she choked on a sob. She had been so proud of that painting, and so had Petyr. It was perfect, every inch. 

“It may always be a twinge” she repeated Yohn’s words aloud as she turned the pages, more and more of Alayne’s paintings and sketches dancing before her eyes. 

She stopped when she reached the advertisement for her first gallery showing, the Lovers covering the front of the postcard and on the back of the cardstock she had taped a review that Petyr had clipped out of the newspaper for her the following day; 

_ “Alayne Stone is surely one of the greatest up and coming painters of our time. She shows not only great promise in technical skills, her brush strokes seamlessly blending the Italian masters and impressionistic influence, but she is able to capture such emotion that you were hard pressed to find a dry eye in attendance. I look forward to seeing more from this young star.-- V for Varys”_

She read the clipping a few times, tracing the edge with her fingers. She had learned about Petyr’s affairs a few months later, devastation consuming her as she packed her belongings and the paints stayed packed away and lost forever. 

No, not lost, she smiled to herself, Yohn had kept them. He knew her better than she knew herself, he always had. Closing the sketchbook she looked to the other contents of the box and, taking a deep breath, began to unpack them. 

Yohn carried the groceries into the house, surprised to see that aside from the kitchen light, it was nearly dark in the house. Upstairs he heard music playing and as he crossed into the kitchen, he set the bags on the counter and his eyes locked on the mess on the table. 

He smiled, hope bubbling in his heart as he looked at the sketches and brushes that sat on the scarred wood. When he had dug the box out of the detached garage early this morning, it was with the vain hope that she wouldn’t simply chuck it all into the garbage. 

Moving quietly, he followed the sound of soothing classical music to the large solar at the end of the hall. Given that his home was quite old, he had worked hard to keep the Victorian elements that he loved, the upstairs sunroom being one of them. 

Light spilled from the doorway and he watched from the darkness of the hall as Sansa hummed softly, her hand working deftly across the canvas. She had brushes sticking out of her ponytail and tubes of paint on the floor and easel. She wore a pair of faded overalls that he hadn’t seen in years, so they must’ve been tucked in a drawer in her room here. The ancient denim was covered with swatches and dashes of paint, making her look more colorful than a prism in the bright light. 

Special bulbs, he remembered helping her pick them out when she was still in high school. The bulbs weren’t too hot, weren’t too ‘warm’ and were just right to bring out the luminosity of the colors, or so she had said. 

He watched her, his little princess clearly lost in the music and movement of the brushes, observing her in her truest form as she painted what looked suspiciously like a lion on the canvas.

_Oh, Princess_ he sighed to himself, turning back to the stairway to start making dinner.


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gesture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS FOR THIS CHAPTER - picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189818577906/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/)  
Well, here goes nothing...

_ “Sansa?” she heard her Mother’s voice calling for her and she ducked further back into the shadows of the cupboard, hoping that she would just this once go un-found. “Sansa Minisa Stark, you show yourself this instant! This is NOT how ladies behave!”_

_ “Cat?” the deep, friendly voice of Uncle Yohn sounded just as footsteps moved in front of her hiding space. “I think I saw her out with Arya and the cousins.”_

_ “Thank you, Yohn” her Mother sighed. “I just wish that she would behave.”_

_ “She’s ten, Cat” Yohn reasoned. “She isn’t a debutant yet, and she isn’t you.”_

_ “She is the oldest Stark daughter, Yohn, you know there is a lot of pressure--”_

_ “It’s a modern world, Cat” Sansa could hear the smile in Yohn’s voice. “Give the girl a little slack, eh?”_

_ Sansa heard her Mother’s all-too-familiar huff in frustration and then the retreating sound of expensive high heels on the hardwood flooring. Seconds passed and when it was quiet, Sansa let out a sigh of relief. _

_ “You can come out now, Princess” Yohn chuckled as shadows passed by the cupboard and Sansa untangled her gangly too-long legs and emerged from behind the linens and into the hall. She looked up at the smiling face with a sheepish grin of her own._

_ “Thank you, Uncle Yohn” she stood and jumped into his arms, so glad to be able to hug he favorite Uncle._

_ “I’d hide too if I were as tiny as you, Princess” he kissed the crown of her head as he set her on her feet. She had kicked off the ugly flat dress shoes that her Mother had insisted that she wear with this hideous lavender dress, and was now barefoot, her toes flexing against the cool floor. “What was it this time?”_

_ “She wanted me to do the tea service” Sansa scrunched her face in annoyance and Yohn laughed. _

_ “How positively boring” he agreed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s sneak to the library.” _

_ “Yeah!” Sansa skipped alongside his large form and they settled onto the old sofa in the library, the last piece of furniture that her Father refused to let her Mother ‘update’ and she watched in fascination as Yohn opened the large picture book to where the make-shift bookmark sat._

_ “Where were we?”_

_ “The painting of the woman on the shell” she pointed to the beautiful painting on the left page._

_ “Ah, the ‘Birth of Venus’,” Yohn smiled and Sansa listened to his voice as he read aloud from the book. This was her favorite part of any party or holiday, listening to Uncle Yohn read about art and its history. He knew that she loved to draw and paint, and while her Mother had forbidden her to use paint in the house, Uncle Yohn always let her paint when she was at his house. _

_ Sansa settled in against him, listening to him read and trailing her fingers over the paintings in fascination. She would be a famous painter someday, she decided. It seemed like such a romantic life._

_ “Sansa! Come. Now!” her Mother’s voice screeched from the doorway and she jumped nearly into straight air. _

_ “But Mom---”_

_ “Cat” her Father appeared behind her Mother and she watched their silent exchange, the fury in her Mother’s eyes enough to terrify her. She did her best to hide behind Yohn’s arm and when he tilted the book up to hide her face, she couldn’t help but giggle._

_ A few moments later, he lowered the book and her parents were gone, almost like magic, and she smiled up at her Uncle._

_ “Where were we?” he asked._

“I could hold a radio outside her window” Jaime suggested. 

“Workable _if_ you know where she is” Tyrion countered. 

“True” Jaime thankfully took the glass of arbor gold from Cersei, ignoring her glare that seemed to scream ‘you fucking moron’. “Thanks.”

“If it were me, I’d suggest jewelry but that isn’t really Sansa’s style” Cersei relaxed onto the sofa, her own glass of wine in-hand. 

“Is that how Robert won you over?” Tyrion snarked and Jaime laughed at his sister’s exasperation. 

“If you must know” Cersei sipped her wine with more elegance than her yoga pants and sweater warranted. “It was this fantastic thing he does with his index finger--”

“Stop!” Jaime choked on his wine, feigning a gag as he shook his head. “No!”

“He started it” Cersei nodded to Tyrion who also looked thorough disgusted. “I’d be worried if I were you though, Jay…”

“Why?” 

“If Stannis is anything like his brother, she’s in for a good time--” 

“Fuck’s sake,” Jaime groaned as Cersei laughed loudly, clearly enjoying his fuck up and desperation to fix it. “Going forward, we’re not talking about Baratheon cocks or index fingers.”

“Tongues?”

Jaime glared at Cersei, “No Baratheon _anythings_.” 

“Fine” she huffed and Tyrion drank deeply from his wine. 

“Alright” Jaime resumed his brainstorming, looking to his sloppily written notes and storyboards on the coffee table. “So boombox is out” he crossed it off but left the little doodle of the man in the coat holding the boombox untouched. “What about singing?”

“No” Tyrion said immediately. “You can’t carry a tune in a bucket. She’d run in the opposite direction.”

“Ok” Jaime crossed that off too, once again leaving the man with the microphone and marching band untouched. 

“Why don’t you just wait for her to come to you?” Cersei suggested. 

“I’ve been waiting, and it's killing me, all this waiting” he set his pen aside and ran his hands over his knees. “I just...she ran off, we didn’t get a chance to talk or anything.” 

“To be fair, she assumed you would choose Brienne” Cersei glared. 

“Right” Jaime reluctantly admitted. “But I didn’t and won’t.”

“Has Brienne tried to contact you?” Tyrion asked. 

“She’s called my cell, but I haven’t picked up” Jaime replied. “I had to block the number. I can’t give her a cookie…”

“No, cause then she’ll want the whole junk food aisle” Cersei muttered into her wine and Tyrion snorted out a short laugh. 

“Anyway” Jaime picked his pen back up, twirling it absently in his fingers. “I could buy her a red Porsche, ya know--”

“Do you have any ideas that didn’t come from romantic comedies?” Cersei interrupted and he silently crossed out that idea too, leaving ‘Jake Ryan’ and his Porsche on the margin.

“Gods Jaime, you’re in marketing, you think that---”

“What?” Jaime cut off Tyrion. “What did you say?” 

“You’re in marketing…?”

“I am” Jaime stood so abruptly that Cersei let out a squeak and nearly spilled her drink. Nearly. “I’m Jaime Fucking Lannister, I am _the_ ad man!”

“Oh no” Tyrion whispered. 

“‘Ad man’,” Cersei gave an exaggerated scoff.

“What do you do when you want to get people’s attention? What do you do when you want to _sell_ something!” he smiled brightly, his brain suddenly firing on all cylinders as ideas raced through his mind. “That’s perfect!”

“What is?” Tyrion asked. 

“I am going to….fuck” Jaime laughed. “Fuck it, I am going to put myself on the altar of humiliation.”

“Oh no” Cersei whispered this time. 

“And I am going to get her attention” Jaime’s face already ached from smiling. “This will work! This _has_ to work!” he clapped loudly and with a laugh, picked up his glass and finished his wine. “It’s showtime! Cersei, get your camera!”

“What?” she looked up in surprise. “Why me?”

“Because I can’t dress myself--”

“True.”

“And I need your help!”

“Say it again” she smiled. 

“I need your expertise, oh wonderful, beautiful twin of mine” Jaime said and Tyrion made a gagging noise. 

“Fine” Cersei stood. “But to be clear, I am only doing this for Sansa” she smirked. 

“What’s that look?” Tyrion asked. 

“Either way, she could be my sister-in-law someday,” she laughed. 

“Cersei!”

“We agreed no Baratheon anything” Tyrion reasoned. 

“I never said Baratheon, who said Baratheon?” Cersei said innocently as they got to work. 

“Do you remember, back when I was little” Sansa said, looking to where Yohn sat in his recliner across from her. They were both relaxing beside the fireplace, her in her pajamas, having long since shed her overalls. “And I told my entire class that I was going to paint the ‘Sixteen Chapel’?” Yohn’s answering laugh told her that he remembered it well and she smiled along with him. 

“I think that was my favorite ‘Career Day’ resolution you’ve ever had, even more so than when you wanted to be the first woman on the moon” he folded his newspaper and set it on his lap. “That was third grade?” 

“I think so” she nodded. “I was so happy to have my Uncle Yohn there,” she continued. “Sure, there were firefighters and police officers, but Uncle Yohn built houses--beautiful and romantic houses.”

He chuckled, “A glorified construction worker.” 

“Hardly” Sansa glanced around to beauty of Runestone. “This was my castle growing up. I loved spending summers here.”

“Anyone would love escaping your Mother, Gods Bless her” Yohn agreed.

“She couldn’t even come to that Career Day” Sansa said softly. “And Ned chose to go to Arya’s class.” 

“Your Father was always an odd duck” Yohn noted. 

“How so?” 

“Affection makes him uncomfortable, probably why he is comfortable with your Mother all these years, she never shows any.”

Sansa scoffed, “She showed it to Robb. They both did.” 

“They never did cut the cord on Robb, did they?” he smiled and she was reminded why she loved Yohn so much. He always said what he was thinking, called it like he saw it and never held back. 

“No they did not,” Sansa agreed. “Is it me, you think? Am I just not _Northern_ enough?” 

Yohn’s eyes narrowed, “Wherever would you get that damned fool idea? No, Princess, there isn’t a damned thing wrong with you. I mean, except that you like pineapple on pizza.”

“Look!” Sansa laughed. “It's good, alright?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘good’,” Yohn countered, his expression growing serious. “You can’t look at your relationship with your family--or lack thereof, and put the blame on yourself, Princess. You are not your Mother’s clone, nor are you her doll. You are a strong, independent woman who knew that she was meant for more than a life of marriage to someone like Harrold Hardyng.”

Sansa gagged, “Could you imagine? I wonder if he still picks his teeth at the table.”

“He does. I swear he has an unending supply of plastic flossers in his pockets,” Yohn grimaced. “And he’s nearly thirty now. Intolerable boy.” 

Sansa laughed, relaxing back against the couch cushions, “I remember the ‘Sixteen Chapel’ like it was only yesterday.” 

“You were a determined little thing” he agreed. 

“I think” she cleared her throat and looked to the man she considered her father. “I think that I want to do that.” 

“I hate to break it to you, but the Sistine Chapel is already painted” he teased. 

“You know what I mean” she flailed her arms in exasperation. 

“So then do it,” he encouraged. “You’ve been painting for four days nonstop, I haven't seen you so happy in years.” 

“It hurts still” she admitted. “But it's just so much more gratifying that graphic layouts.” 

“Might not pay as much,” he reasoned. 

“I don’t care about the money,” she replied. 

“That’s my girl” he winked. 

“And I think--no, I know that I would easily be able to pick up clients and shows here in the city,” she continued. “It's just…”

“The big question is what do you sign on the corner” Yohn read her mind. “Alayne Stone or Sansa Stark?” 

“You know me well.”

“Always have.”

“What if” Sansa sat up, clasping her hands together. “What if they were the same woman?”

Yohn smiled, the pride in his eyes obvious, “Now _that_ is a damned fine idea.” 

“Yeah” Sansa lay back on the couch. “Yeah, I think so too.” 

“Will you _stop_ fidgeting with my hair” Jaime sighed as Cersei adjusted his hair for what seemed like the millionth time that day. 

“You want to win her back or no?” Cersei countered. 

“Does my hair matter?” 

“Yes” Cersei and her assistant, Melara, said at the same time. Cersei had always had a mind for fashion and styling and it had taken her far in life. So working as an editor for ‘Icon’, the ‘go-to’ fashion magazine in Westeros, especially for anyone in high society, was a perfect fit for her. 

When Cersei had initially expressed an interest in this career path, Tywin had offered to buy her a magazine of her own, but Cersei had declined. She wanted to work her way from the bottom, make her own way, and she had. Which was fortunate, since he was now able to use her resources and his own to make this work. 

“Gods--alright” Jaime muttered, giving a nod of assent and immediately Cersei was fixing his hair, combing it until she was satisfied. 

“Are you sure this isn’t too cheesy?” Melara asked, looking at the prop in Jaime’s hand.

“Have you _met_ my brother?” Cersei chuckled. “Trust me, if it isn’t cheesy, it will be disingenuine.” 

“Alright” Melara agreed and set about adjusting the lighting and camera. 

“Sure this is gonna work?” Jaime asked his twin, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know, Jay” Cersei said with a sad smile. “But you have to try, right?”

“I’m happy to make a fool of myself if I could just...talk to her” Jaime whispered. 

“Well” Cersei looked to the phone--no, the bright green frog phone in his hands and smiled. “I think you’ve got a damned good chance.”

“Of looking like a fool or talking to her?”

“Both” Cersei stepped back, making a final adjustment to his suit, before turning to Melara who was ready with the camera. Jaime took a deep breath and did his best to play the part, to look polished and calm, all the while he was a ball of anxiety and worry. 

He hadn’t heard from Sansa since their argument and every time he called her cell phone, it went straight to voicemail. Which meant wherever she was, her phone was off. Clearly she didn’t want to speak to him, but he wanted more than anything just to hear her voice. 

He missed her. More than he would have ever thought possible, he missed everything about her. Her smile, her laugh, her smartass comments, the soft press of her lips against his own and the way it felt when she slept in his arms. All of it. Everything.

He was terrified beyond all reasonable belief that he would never have the chance to experience any of those again. 

He knew that if he could just talk to her---

“Jaime” Cersei pulled him back to the present, clearly having been trying to get his attention for sometime. “Focus.”

“Yeah” he nodded resolutely. “Yeah.” 

“SANSA!” the sound of Yohn’s booming yell startled her so much she dropped her paintbrush and nearly fell off of the stool. “SANSA!” he repeated and she was running before she could stop her feet, descending the stairs to find Yohn standing frozen in the living room. 

“What?!” she demanded and he merely pointed to the t.v. where a field reporter was standing in the city square, surrounded by three billboards of a very familiar face. “Oh fuck…”

“That’s right, Tom. I am out here in Lannisport City Square where today, we all have one question on our minds; Who is Sansa? And will she call?” the reporter smiled as the camera panned up to show the three largest buildings in downtown Lannisport, all of them covered with enormous photos of Jaime. Well--they weren’t exactly easy to tell but she knew.

“Oh my...fuck” Sansa choked out as the camera focused on each ad individually, all of them showing photos of a very good looking man, his eyes blocked out and lettering on the top and bottom of the layout. “Is he insane?”

“There are some here in the square that have put their money on this handsome man being none other than Tywin Lannister’s son, Jaime” the reporter continued and it cut to an interview with Podrick.

“Err, yeah, I mean, it looks like him, I’d put my money on it” Podrick nervously cleared his throat and glanced to the camera like a deer in the headlights. A photo of Jaime popped up in the corner of the screen for good measure.

“And do you know who ‘Sansa’ is?”

“Err” Podrick cleared his throat again. “I mean, I have my guesses.”

“Will you tell us?” 

“I wouldn’t want to do that and be wrong would I?” he laughed nervously, the sound coming out as oddly frantic and then the feed cut back to the reporter who was now standing in front of the ad with Jaime holding a large, frog phone. 

“Each at is approximately fifteen stories tall, making these the largest apology we here in Lannisport, have ever seen. They’ve also been spotted on bus stops, subways and in newspapers” the reporter smiled. “We can only hope that it works and entices Sansa to pick up the phone. So today here on KLTV, we’re going to start day one of ‘Sansa Watch’, be sure to follow hashtag ‘['#wheressansa'](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189818577906/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/) for updates and hopefully, the big reveal.”

“Fuck” Sansa muttered, her legs giving out, forcing her to sit on the hardwood floor. Her eyes couldn’t look away from the huge ads, her eyes burning with unshed tears, laughter bubbling in her chest and disbelief in her gut. 

“Well,” Yohn looked down to where she sat. 

“Well.”

“I wonder if I could get rich on revealing the mysterious Sansa” he smirked. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

Yohn laughed, “Could be lucrative.”

“He’s insane…” she covered her face with her hands. “The entire city is going to know its him…” 

“Seems he wants your attention” Yohn frowned. “Have you had your phone on at all this week?”

“No” she admitted. 

“You’re hiding from it then” Yohn sat on the couch beside where she sat on the floor. “Hiding works well for groundhogs, not so much for people.” 

“I just...wanted to get my own head clear, ya know?” 

“And is it?” 

She thought about it and gave a small nod, “I am done with Casterly. With design. I am good at it, but it isn’t...I want to paint.” 

“Good” Yohn beamed. “And Jaime?” 

She swallowed thickly, then whispered, “I miss him.”

“Seems he misses you too” Yohn chuckled. 

“Apparently” she gave a watery laugh. 

“There’s no law that says you have to fall back into his bed or marry him tomorrow” Yohn’s cheeks went a bit ruddy and he pushed on. “But you need to speak with him. Tell him what you’ve decided this week and then together you can talk about...you two.”

“You haven’t put a hit out on him, have you?” 

“Not yet” Yohn sighed dramatically. “But say the word--”

“No” Sansa smiled, nodding as she pushed to her feet. “Right..right.”

“Just” Yohn started. “Try not to buy any billboards?”

“No, I won't,” she assured him, leaving him in the living room and returning to her bedroom upstairs. 

Digging under the bed she pulled out her laptop bag and set it on the mattress, digging inside for her smartphone. The weight of it felt strange in her hand, heavy and sleek. Much different from the paintbrushes she had been holding all week. 

Walking across the hall to her studio, she sat on the stool and powered up the phone, waiting patiently while it went through its paces. The wallpaper, a photo of her and Jaime from the pizza parlor popped up and she smiled at the happiness on their faces. 

She knew the moment that she had service, because voicemails, texts and emails began to arrive. Everyone from Jaime to Cersei and even Jeyne had messaged her. Opening the voicemails she scrolled to the oldest one from Jaime and, with a silent prayer, clicked play.

_“San...please call me. We need to talk and I--fuck, Sansa, please….Just call me, please”_ there was a rustling and a long pause where she could hear the sounds of traffic in the background. Perhaps he meant to hang up? the thought before she heard his next words. _ “I love you.” _

She choked back a sob that tore through her chest and she set the phone aside, covering her mouth as emotions broke loose. Squeezing her eyes shut, tears scalded their way down her cheeks and she felt her entire body shaking. 

Jaime loved her. Whether he had admitted it to on purpose or on accident, he’d said the words and she could hardly believe it. The billboards made it clear--crystal clear to the whole world, that he missed her, wanted her. As far as grand gestures went, it was...wow.

Strong arms wrapped around her and she leaned against Yohn, letting him silently comfort her.

She didn’t know how long she cried, but when she was done she felt lighter, her mind felt clearer and she knew what she had to do. She had to meet Jaime’s gesture with one of her own.

Looking up at Yohn, she grabbed her phone and unlocked it. Scrolling for the contact, she dialed and cleared her throat, hoping she didn’t sound like a train wreck. 

“Casterly Designs, senior floor” the friendly voice answered. 

“Pod, its Sansa, don’t say a word---”

Jaime stared out the window of his office, the overwhelming silence of his desk and cell phones were a crushing weight on his shoulders. 

Yesterday, the billboards went up and the whole of Lannisport was brought into the intrigue of ‘#wheressansa’. But aside from a slew of unrelated and rather interesting calls to Casterly, it hadn’t worked. Not the way he wanted…

And so all he could do was continue to wait. 

His father had been, admittedly, impressed by the campaign. Jaime wasn’t sure if it was because it was him finally showing initiative, or because it had put Casterly on the lips of everyone in the city. Regardless, Tywin had clapped him on the back, silently assuring him that, either way, things would be alright. 

Jaime wasn’t so sure. 

Beyond his office door, the sound of phones, printers and conversations barely reached him. Everyone else was hard at work, all doing their best to impress as rumors of a new senior design team being chosen ran rampant. 

“Sir” Podrick poked his head in and Jaime turned to face him. 

“Yes?” 

“Your three o’clock is here” Podrick explained. 

“Give me a few minutes and bring them back” Jaime sighed and as Podrick returned to the front, Jaime crossed to the en suite and splashed a bit of water on his face before running his hands through his hair in an attempt to tangle the masses. He still hadn’t had it cut, hoping that the overly long style would meet with Sansa’s approval if--when she returned. 

Looking in the mirror, he adjusted his tie, preparing to meet with a new prospective client who was looking to market a series of exclusive artwork. It wasn’t the normal type of work he usually took on, but they had specifically asked for him. A side-effect, perhaps, of his face being on billboards and social media everywhere. 

Feeling a bit more put-together, he returned to his office and desk. Grabbing his tablet and a new file folder, he heard high heels in the hallway, heading his way. Steeling his shoulders he rounded the desk to meet his new client, but his steps faltered and he had to brace himself on the visitor’s chair at his desk. All of the air seemed to rush from his body in the same moment and he could barely breathe.

She was here! Finally!!

“Sansa…” 

“Jaime” she smiled that heart-stopping smile and he nearly burst into tears. Standing tall in dark jeans, a white top and grey blazer, she looked just as beautiful as he remembered and he was grateful he had tamed his hair and washed his face. 

“Sansa” he couldn't help but repeat as he moved away from the chair and stepped closer, pausing just before he could reach her. 

She looked around the office before her eyes settled back on him, a single brow raised “Just as I thought.” 

“What?” he paled. 

“You told me to call, but how can I do that when there is _clearly_ no frog phone here?” He choked on a laugh, still doing his best to battle his emotions. “Hi” she shifted closer, lowering her briefcase from her shoulder to her side. 

“Hi” he braved another step, his heart beating so quickly that he was worried it would burst out of his chest--or give out all together. 

“Hi” she whispered, her eyes bright with unshed tears. 

“Fuck” he muttered, giving in to impulse and in the next instant he was pulling her into his arms. 

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as he could without hurting her, burying his face in her hair. She smelled a little different but just as good, the scent of roses surrounding him as her body trembled against his. Her arms wrapped around him and he felt the warmth her face pressing against his neck.

Gods, he had missed this, he squeezed his eyes shut, not embarrassed at the tears that escaped. He held her, unwilling to let go as he memorized every detail of this moment. He needed to remember it because he would be damned if would ever forget a second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all.
> 
> Please forgive my cheesy ads.


	10. Part 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO much for your feedback, comments and love!! I am so glad the ads made you smile/chuckle! :D
> 
> I am hoping to be able to update tomorrow, but, alas, the holidays may get in the way! I will make a valiant effort! We shall see!

Jaime very reluctantly released his hold on Sansa, releasing her only enough for her to take a half-step back, his hands sliding to her waist. With a ragged exhale, he rested his forehead against hers and allowed his eyes to briefly shut. 

“Gods, I missed you” he whispered. “Next time you run away, take me with you.” 

Sansa laughed softly, “How about when all this is over we just run away together, Lannister?” 

“Sounds perfectly reasonable” he agreed, raising a hand to cup her cheek, his heart clenching when she leaned into his touch. “I can hardly believe you’re here.” 

“I can leave--” 

“Don’t you dare” he pulled her closer. “I am not letting you out of my sight, Stark.” 

“I had Pod clear your schedule so that I could kidnap you for the rest of the day,” she explained. 

“Oh?”

“I thought we could grab pizza and then,” she took a deep breath, her eyes clouded briefly before she smiled once again. “There’s a lot we should talk about. Yeah?”

“Yeah” he agreed. “There’s a lot to cover, I think. Pizza sounds perfect.”

“First order of business, however” she stepped back and this time he lowered his hands to his side. He watched as she dug through her briefcase and pulled a few papers free. “My formal letter of resignation.”

“Your...Sansa, what?” he looked from the papers to her face, confused at what this could mean. 

“Trust me?” she asked, extending the papers to him. “It's not a resignation from you, Jaime. Just from Casterly.” He didn’t realize his hands had moved until he was holding the paperwork, staring blankly down at the printed words. He nearly jumped when Sansa’s hands covered his, “Jaime…”

“This isn’t” he swallowed thickly then cleared his throat. “This isn’t the first step in cutting me from your life?”

“Not at all” she assured him. “More like the opposite.”

“Al--alright” he took a deep breath. “Then I will accept it--but only on the condition that you’re not running away again.” 

“No, and I think you’ll understand that once I explain everything” she smiled. “I just wanted to handle that here, in the building, before we go.” 

“Alright” he turned back to his desk and tossed the papers on the top before grabbing his jacket. He tugged it on as Sansa resituated her briefcase on her shoulder, moving a hank of her hair behind her shoulder. He had missed its molten color, the way it danced in the light. 

“Ready, Lannister?” she asked and he slipped his hand into hers. 

“Ready, Stark” he agreed, twining their fingers and holding her slender hand snugly within his own. 

He was hyper-aware of the stares of everyone on the senior floor, all eyes watching them with wonder, whispers following them as they made their way to the elevator. He gave a nod to a smiling Podrick, who, bless his heart, had agreed to go on television when the ads went live yesterday. He’d earned himself a nice bonus, that’s for sure. 

The elevator ride seemed to take no time at all, and soon they were walking down the sidewalk, hand-in-hand, and he couldn’t help but feel a hundred tons lighter. He watched as Sansa put on a pair of sunglasses, a soft smile playing at her lips as she walked alongside him, hair blowing in the breeze. 

“You know what? I’ve just realised something” he used his grip on her hand to slow them to a stop. 

“What? What’s wrong?” she frowned, turning back to him. 

“This” he smirked and pulled her back into his arms, lowering his lips to hers. He nearly whimpered, as she did, as their mouths met, finally after so much time apart. She tasted exactly how he remembered he mused as he parted her lips and delved deeper, like cinnamon and sin. 

He didn’t care that they were on a busy sidewalk in Lannisport, didn’t care that others could see them. All that mattered was that Sansa was in his arms, her body pressed firmly to his and her hands clinging to his dress shirt beneath his jacket. 

He did groan softly when Sansa sucked his tongue, his entire body pulled taut with pent up arousal and frustration. He could drag her into an alley, he suppose as he nibbled her lower lip. He’d done it before, but...no, no he wanted a bed, his bed. The huge bed they’d already shared so many times before. 

“Ow!” he tore his lips from Sansa’s as something solid collided with his back. He turned to see a little old lady, complete with white hair and a cardigan over her shoulders, glaring up at him, her pocket book poised at the ready to smack him again.

“You’re in public!” the lady scolded them and he suddenly felt like he was back in high school and had been caught in the library. “Shame!” 

He could hear Sansa giggling, her body vibrating against his and he let out a nervous laugh himself, “Err, right. Sorry.” 

“Shame!” the lady muttered, shaking her head as she walked back towards the bus stop a few yards away. 

“She hit me” Jaime whispered to a now-laughing Sansa. 

“Oh, Lannister” she laughed. “Just got owned by an old woman.” 

“Oh hush” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, both of them resuming their walk down the sidewalk. Sansa’s arm wrapped around his back and he quickly kissed her temple, never breaking stride. “Can’t believe she hit me.”

“Want me to go back? Kick her ass?” Sansa asked and he chuckled. 

“No, we have more important things to see to,” he replied. 

“That we do” Sansa agreed, leaning against him as they walked. 

They were so focused on each other, they didn’t notice the eyes watching them keenly from across the street. 

Sansa watched Jaime as he finished his pizza, admiring the way his hair--which seemed longer than it had a week ago, fell across his forehead as he wiped his hands. She had nearly forgotten how devastating he was in person. Sure, the world had seen the billboards but the reality of Jaime Lannister was so much _more_ than the goofy man with the frog phone. 

Which, by the way, she was going to ask Cersei to steal for him. And it had to have been Cersei that helped him, Jaime didn’t usually dress himself so fashionably. 

They were tucked away his apartment, one she knew as well as her own, relaxing on the plush grey sofa while they ate.

“You’re staring” Jaime turned to smirk at her. “See something you like?” 

“Maybe” she set her plate aside on the coffee table and leaned closer to kiss him softly. “I’ve missed you” she said softly, sincerely. 

“Yeah? Good” he teased. “Then you won’t leave again.” 

“I don’t plan on going anywhere” she replied. “There’s a lot to talk about, but I want to move forward with you--with us.” 

“Me too” he agreed. “I’d like to start, if you don’t mind.”

“Alright” she watched as he adjusted his position, bringing a leg up on the couch to face her. She was already sitting with her legs between them, so now they were face to face. Time to face the truth, get it all out in the open so that they could move forward.

“That day, everything was a mess, including my mind,” he said, his hand finding her barefoot and absently smoothed across the top as he spoke. “I was surprised to learn about Alayne but even more surprised that someone I had trusted, Brienne, had behaved so...absurdly. And seeing that painting--that photograph of you and him. It threw me for a loop and I just...I behaved like a shit—I didn’t speak up for you and I am sorry. Truly” he took a deep breath. “She was terminated, that day without more than the necessary delay and I have ended our friendship. Clearly things were out of hand, I let them get out of hand and I am sorry.” 

Sansa gave a small nod, “I am sorry too. I was so hurt and so mad that I just had to escape. In hindsight, I should have stayed, I just wanted to spare myself the pain of watching you choose her. I didn’t trust you and for that I am sorry.”

“I would never have chosen her, Sansa. I don’t love her. And if I was suddenly going to develop feelings for her, it would have been a decade ago when we started to work together” he promised. 

“I don’t have a great track record with people, with trust” she admitted softly. “And the memories of that will likely linger for the rest of my life. You’ll never meet my family, Jaime. Even if we were to get married, have children, my family won’t be a part of their lives. Our lives.” Jaime frowned and she continued. “My Mother is a very traditional woman in the sense that she firmly believes it is the role of girls to become women, and women to become wives. She started grooming me from infancy to be a good little girl, a lady and debutant. She made me practice cursive until my fingers cramped and when she tried to make me continue, I could only cry as I forced my hands to work. Tears never slowed Catelyn Stark’s mission to turn me into her clone. Ballet classes until my toes bled. Piano. Singing. Etiquette. Everything that she thought would make me a better housewife.”

“Gods” Jaime muttered. 

“I had three brothers and one sister, all of them were allowed freedoms that I never had. Robb was the golden child, the oldest and the heir. Arya, my sister, she is a few years younger than me and she was the apple of my father’s eye” she leaned to the side where her briefcase sat on the floor and she pulled several photos free. She handed the first to Jaime and pointed to the short, dark haired girl beside her father in the family photo. “She was his favorite and there was really no secret about that.”

“Look at you” Jaime smiled at the photograph, taken when Sansa was ten and six, all of the Starks dressed for Christmas and looking like the perfect family. She knew the photo well, though it had been in a box at Yohn’s for years. All of the Starks would have sleek dark hair, dark eyes and broad shoulders, all except for her. To the left of everyone, a small distance from actually touching her mother, stood the younger version of herself. Tall, slender and with hair so bright it only served to make her look adopted. Even her Mother’s deep auburn hair couldn’t compare. 

“She pushed me until I would break and do what she wanted” Sansa whispered. “The only person I had in the world who would listen, who would _talk_ to me instead of at me, was my Uncle Yohn” she pointed to a photograph of her and Yohn on the steps of Runestone. “I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he convinced my Mother to let me spend summers with him at Runestone, his home. And so, every summer, he would surprise me with a different art camp” she smiled at the memories. “Pottery, stained glass, oil paintings, watercolors, anything he could find, and I was never happier than I was during the summers. I would cry the entire night before I had to go back North.”

“From what I saw, you are a very talented artist” Jaime said softly. 

“I love painting, but my Mother...she hated it. She thought it was beneath me, beneath the Stark name” she swallowed a lump of emotion. “She sent me to University in the Vale for interior design, since ever proper lady should be able to decorate. But I switched my major without telling her.”

“Good for you” Jaime smiled softly. 

“It was at the Vale University where I met Petyr Baelish” she continued and Jaime’s smile faltered a bit. “He was a professor there--is a professor there, teaching philosophy and we met in the library. He wasn’t my teacher, so I didn’t see an issue of taking up with him. He taught me a lot, more than just philosophy and psychology, but how to read people, how to anticipate their movements and understand their motives.”

“I see…”

“But I never could have anticipated my Mother’s reaction to learning I was pursuing art history instead of interior design” she paused and grabbed her glass of water, taking a few quick sips. 

“What did she do?” Jaime prompted. 

“She cut me off” Sansa gave a dark laugh. “Only she didn’t tell me that she had cut me off and I only figured it out it when I came home to see people packing up my dorm room.” 

“Gods” Jaime ran a hand through his hair. 

“I had nowhere to go. My parents and siblings weren’t answering their phones, my dorm room had been recommitted and I had very little money after tuition. So, I went to Petyr” she admitted. "He took me in, gave me a home and even built a studio for me to paint in."

“My Father has been angry at me before, but he would never do something so sneaky” Jaime paused. “At least, I would hope not. Lately he seems to be a fan of verbal dressings down.” 

“I haven’t seen or spoken to my family since then” Sansa said softly. “To this day I don’t know what my Mother told my siblings to make them just...forget me” a tear slipped from her eyes and she quickly wiped it away, smiling when she felt Jaime take her hand in support. 

“And what happened with Petyr?” he asked.

“I loved him, but he soured that love. Betrayed my trust” she replied. “He was carrying on with one of his student aids, another redheaded woman named Ros.”

“Well, I know you said he was smart, but he certainly sounds like a dumbass to me” Jaime smirked and she laughed at the assessment. 

“Too smart for his own good. He didn’t think he would get caught but when I found out, I was gone the next day” she said. “I don’t suffer cheaters, and I can’t stand liars. He helped me create Alayne Stone to avoid my Mother’s wrath, helped me build a career, but Alayne died the moment Petyr broke my heart.”

“I am very sorry.” 

“That is why I didn’t talk about Alayne or any of my paintings,” she explained, reaching for her briefcase and, this time, pulling her sketchbook free. “Painting was the first thing I ever loved, but Alayne was so steeped in Petyr that I couldn’t separate my joy of painting from my heartbreak. So I packed everything away and tucked it into Yohn’s garage.” Jaime flipped through the sketchbook, pausing on the sketch of Robb and then again on Petyr before he flipped to the postcard and turned it over, silently reading the review. 

“And now?” he prompted when he finished with the clipping. 

“When I ran away, I ran to the only home I’ve ever known” she smiled softly. “I went to Runestone and to Yohn. He’s been trying to get me to paint for years, and he pulled the box from the garage, the one that had this in it” she touched the sketchbook in his hands. “Along with my brushes and paints. And I….I painted.” 

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he asked. 

“It is” she nodded. “And it is also the reason that I can’t work at Casterly anymore.”

“You’re going to paint? Full time?” he asked with a small smile. 

Sansa nodded, “Yes, I already asked Petyr for control of the Alayne Stone websites, and I am going to rebrand it under my own name. I am going to be Sansa Stark the painter, and I don’t give a damn if my Mother finds out.”

Jaime set the sketchbook and photos aside, turning back to take her hands in his, “That’s good, Sansa. Very good, in fact.” 

“Maybe you’ll help me rebrand?” she asked softly, scooting closer and a moment later Jaime pulled her into his lap. 

“I’ll do whatever you want” he assured her, wrapping his arms around her. 

“Now you know all my secrets” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Well, all but one.” 

“And what’s that?” he asked, looking down at her as she lifted her head.

“That I’m in love with you, Jaime Lannister” she ran her fingers over the stubble on his cheek. 

“Yeah?” his hopeful smile could have stopped the heart of any woman on the planet. 

“Yeah” she nodded. 

“I love you too, Stark. I’ve been gone for you for a while now,” he admitted. “But I suppose you will always be the one who said it first.” 

“Technically, you did” she explained. “In your voicemail, the first one you left.” 

“Oh” his cheeks flushed a bit. “I thought I had ended the call. I was a bit scattered.” 

“We both were that day,” she agreed. 

“That and I had just come fresh from a confrontation with Stannis on the sidewalk outside your apartment” he laughed. 

“What?” she sat up, looking at him in surprise. “What the hell was he doing outside my apartment?” 

“Seems Robert was with Cersei when she got the news that you’d left” Jaime explained. “Robert told Stannis and he was going to swoop in and steal you away.” 

Sansa scoffed out a laugh, “Gotta hand it to the man, he’s confident.” Jaime frowned and she placed a soft kiss on his pouting lips. “Stop pouting, it's your lap I’m on, isn’t it?” 

“Damn right it is” he smirked and tightened his arms around her, holding her close. Sansa lay against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, taking comfort in the sound. She smiled when she felt his lips graze across her temple before coming to rest against the crown of her hair. 

“Yohn wants to meet you” she said as she remembered that Yohn had asked to meet Jaime once things had settled. 

“Meeting your father, huh?” she felt him smile against her hair. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

“Me too.” 

Jaime startled awake, unaware that he had even fallen asleep but not entirely surprised. He hadn’t slept well since Sansa left and he’d been burning the candle at both ends trying to get her back. 

Sansa, he smiled at the weight of her across his lap. He could tell by her breathing that she had also fallen asleep and still was, tucked under his chin, arms around his torso. He’d missed her, so fucking much, and finally felt whole again now that she was back. They’d aired everything out and, while he was going to miss working with her everyday, he was glad to see that she was pursuing what made her happiest. He found that he couldn't wait to watch her paint, to see her visions come to life.

Not to mention, he smiled into the dim light of his apartment, he’d be able to come home to her everyday. Or rather, he would when they decided to move in together. 

Baby steps, he cautioned himself. 

Sansa stirred against his chest a few seconds before she lifted her head to smile at him. She looked adorable, cheeks flushed, eyes glossy and a crease across her cheek from his shirt. 

“You’re beautiful” he ran his hands up her back, tunneling them into her hair and she grumbled a response. 

“We fell asleep” she mumbled, stifling a yawn. 

“We did” he agreed. “I’ve missed waking up with you in my arms.”

“Even though I’m a blanket hog?”

He nodded in agreement, “I’ll suffer gladly.”

“Yeah until you put those cold feet on me” she countered, nibbling on his chin before placing a soft kiss over the spot. 

“Careful” he said softly, his voice low and quiet and her answering smirk nearly unmanned him. 

“Why?” she whispered. 

“Because I will gladly carry you to the bedroom and spend the rest of the night fucking your brains out. And then, and only when you're panting and exhausted, I'd make love to you” he warned. 

“I mean” she gave the smallest of shrugs. “I won’t complain—-ah!” she cried out, laughing loudly as he stood and carried her through the apartment. The sound of her laughter made him smile widely as he moved them into the bedroom, plopping her onto the bed. 

He watched her intently as he loosened and removed his tie, tossing it aside as he kicked off his shoes. Sansa had discarded her heels and blazer before they ate, which meant she was watching him in just her jeans and silk white blouse. He stepped closer to the bed, intending to join her, but she moved so quickly he barely had time to block as she swung the pillow at him. 

“We’re never arguing again!” she laughed, hitting him with his pillow. 

“Never” he promised and when she swung again, he grabbed the second pillow and retaliated. Laughter, and the occasional odd snort, filled the bedroom as they bludgeoned each other and rolled around the large bed. 

“Ah!” Sansa squealed with laughter as he landed a hit to her stomach and when she tried to roll away he tossed his pillow aside and pulled her into his arms. 

“Caught you” he growled against her neck and she tried in vain to hit him over her shoulder but he pulled the pillow away easily, tossing it from the bed. “Surrender?”

“Never” she twisted in his arms and in a flash he had her trapped beneath him. “Lannister….”

“Stark” he whispered.

“I love you” she said, nibbling on her lower lip. 

“I love you too” he replied, leaned down to resume the kiss that had been so rudely interrupted on the sidewalk. 

Sansa met his kiss eagerly, her fingers making quick work of his shirt buttons, pushing the sides open to pull his undershirt free. He groaned as her hands travelled beneath the cotton, stroking his bare flesh, the sensation nearly overwhelming. Scooting her towards the middle of the bed, he helped rid her of her jeans and soon her pants and his shirt were in a pile on the floor. 

“Jaime” she gasped as he bunched her blouse to pull her bra aside, cupping her breast to tease the peak. Her hands tugged at his belt and when she seemed to have no luck she growled in frustration. The sound was adorable. 

“Having trouble?” he kissed his way across her chin 

“Yeah, you’re not naked” she explained with exasperation. 

“What’s the magic word?”

“Now.”

He laughed but obeyed, helping her to unbuckle his belt and then watching as her frantic hands did the rest of the work. 

When, at last, all of their clothing was gone, he took a moment to run his hands over every inch of her he could reach, memorizing every dip and curve. Her eyes were a deep dark blue when he relented to the urge to pull a nipple into his mouth, suckling the peak with his tongue until she was writhing against the sheets. 

Her hands tugged at his hair and he looked up at her, “I like it long” she smirked. “My very own lion taming handle.”

“Funny” he slipped his fingers between her legs and she whimpered as he stroked her folds. “I’d say this is how I tame you, but I know it drives you wild” he circled her clit with the pad of his finger and she mewled. 

“You’re a tease” she glared. 

“Not a tease when I intend to follow through.”

“Jaime?”

“Hmm” he kept a slow pace with his finger, teasing her. 

“When?”

“You sound desperate for me, Stark.”

“Jaime, I swear to the Gods if you’re not inside of me in the next thirty seconds—“ 

“Threats now?” he smirked, sliding down her body to situated his shoulders between her thighs, spreading her wide. She was already soaked, her folds swollen and pink, absolutely perfect. 

“Fuck!” she cried out, her hand tightening in his hair as he licked and lapped at her core. “Jaime—fuck!” 

He smiled against her most sensitive flesh as he devoured her, drinking every drop and savoring the tangy taste. She was wild and wanton, moaning as she eagerly rocked her hips against his face and when she came, he felt it travel through her entire body, her thighs shaking against the sides of his head. Listening to her ride out her climax was the sweetest music to his ears. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at that” she sighed as Jaime crawled back over her, only pausing his advance to grab a condom. 

“I like to think there are a few things I’m good at” he replied. 

“Meh” she winked, reaching between their bodies to stroke him, idly twisting her wrist as she gripped his length. 

“Fuck” he groaned, thrusting into her hand and she gave a devilish smirk. “You’re a vixen, you know that?”

“I’m _your_ vixen” she countered. 

“Damned right you are,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her. Gods she’d missed his kisses, his taste and the soft growls of pleasure he made. But most of all, she missed the feeling of him inside of her. Making quick work of slipping on the condom, she used her grip on him to guide his cock to her slit and rubbed the head against the moisture there. 

“Fuck” he hissed as she dipped the head of him inside. 

“In” she whispered, his hips tilted in response and he sank into her at a torturously slow pace. “Fuck” it was her turn to whisper the word as he stretched her and filled her. 

His lips lingered at the corner of her mouth for a moment and then he nuzzled her cheek, the stubble of his beard tickling her skin. 

“I love you” he whispered against her cheek and she wrapped her legs around him. “Gods, Sansa, I love you.”

“I love you too” she replied, holding tightly to him as he began to rock. It was languid, slow and reverent, both of them swearing love and affection with their bodies in this ancient universal language. The give and take, push and pull of their bodies was smooth and deep, lips exchanging a variety of kisses that only served to heighten their desire. 

She could feel the flex of his back, buttocks and thighs as he fought to keep the slow pace. Her Jaime, she sighed as he hit a spot inside of her that had her seeing stars. 

“That’s my girl” he growled, licking a path up her cheek to her ear where his deep voice tumbled through her. “You feel so good.”

“Yes” she whimpered, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. “Please…”

“I want to feel you fucking come” he said. “Feel that soaked cunt of yours clamp around my cock.”

“Oh—fuck” she whimpered. 

“You want to come for me?” he pulled her earlobe into his mouth. 

“Yes” she choked out the word, her body racing to obey his filthy commands. 

“That’s it” he encouraged, never speeding his hips but making sure to grind against her each time he filled her, driving her wild. 

“Jaime” she arched against him and his hips snapped against her, sending her over the edge, crying out his name. His answering growl was feral as his mouth closed around the juncture of her shoulder and neck, sucking deeply as he slid deep and came, pouring into the latex barrier. “Fuck” she sighed several minutes later when she was able to think. “So good.”

He released her shoulder and gave her a short, saccharine kiss, “Always.”

Sansa watched as he reluctantly slid away, disposing of the condom before he grabbed the pillows from the floor and tossed them back to the bed. Sliding under the sheets, he pulled her back into his arms and she willingly went, snuggling into his side. 

“There is one thing” Jaime said just as she was threatening to slip into slumber. “That you said earlier that bothers me.”

“Huh?” she lifted her head to stare at him in confusion. 

“You said ‘if’.”

“If?”

“You said ‘even _if_ we get married’,” he explained, looking over at her. “I was hoping that it would be more of a ‘when’ type deal.” Warmth rushed through her body, sending her pulse skyrocketing and she couldn’t have stopped the smile from consuming her face. 

“When,” she snuggled against his bare shoulder. “‘When’ is good.”


	11. Part 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I am sure that not all of you celebrate Christmas, since I am celebrating both Christmas and Hanukkah, I will wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukkah! I hope you're all surrounded by love and laughter (or peace and quiet if that is your preference) today. I am very grateful for your readership, support, kudos and comments. I am always surprised when people read my work, and it warms my heart to know you enjoy it. 
> 
> Okay, enough of my holiday bloviating. Enjoy!

Shouting broke into Sansa’s slumber and she groaned, doing her best to smooth her hair from her face. The movement, small as it was, reminded her that _everything_ hurt; arms, legs, back, stomach...every. fucking. thing. 

She smiled at the memories, knowing damn well that Jaime had made good on his promise to fuck her brains out and then make love to her. In fact, she was fairly certain that they were still in the throes of passion when the sun came up that morning. 

And the morning before that. 

Gods, had they really been hidden away for two days? She laughed to herself.

‘Making up for lost time’ Jaime had promised her as he held her tight between bouts of love-making. She couldn’t argue with that, she had missed his touch almost as much as she missed his smart mouth and wonderful smile.

Blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes, she rolled over to see that the bed beside her was empty, the indent from Jaime’s body all that was left behind. 

“Fuck” she yawned, stretching aching muscles as more voices reached her. She frowned until she realized that it was Cersei’s voice that she could hear from the front of the apartment. And Cersei seemed to be winning whatever conversation-slash-argument was happening.

“Cersei!” Jaime shouted and a second later, his twin burst into the master bedroom, clearly unfazed that Sansa wore only a bedsheet. 

“Thank fuck” Cersei smirked. “You kept him waiting long enough, bitch!”

“What are you doing here so fucking early” Sansa groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Its past two in the afternoon!” Cersei reasoned, moving to the curtains and throwing them open wide, filled the once-dim bedroom with far too much sunlight. “Time to get up and face the Lannisters.”

“How many Lannisters?” Sansa pouted. 

“Three in total” Cersei grimaced. “Gods, shower first please. It stinks like sex in here.”

“You’re the one that just barged in! Not like I invited you!” Sansa called after her as she stormed from the room, shaking her head. Sansa laughed, wondering why they’d been invaded, through in truth they’d been MIA for nearly forty-eight hours now. 

Pushing to her feet, she wandered to the shower, frowning when she looked into the large mirror. Her hair was tangled, what was left of her makeup was smeared and she had a fair amount of love bites across her shoulders and chest. 

“Well, shit” she muttered, stepping into the hot spray that did wonders for her aching body. 

When she finally joined the Lannister siblings nearly a half-hour later, she was in her jeans and one of Jaime’s t-shirts with the excess bunched at the side with a hair-tie so that it didn’t look _too_ baggy. Jaime, she noticed, only wore a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt himself, while Cersei and Tyrion were much more polished looking. 

“She emerges” Cersei smiled at her, pouring her a mug of coffee and setting it on the table as she joined them. 

“She was sleeping” Sansa snarked. 

“_She_ is on the news” Tyrion added and Sansa frowned. 

“What?” 

“The sensation of ‘#wheressansa’ has taken Lannisport by storm and it seems that you were spotted getting pizza together” Tyrion explained. “Social media is quite abuzz. Could Sansa have finally been found?” he asked dramatically.

“Fuck” Sansa mumbled, looking to Jaime who was only smiling that beautiful smile of his. She sipped her coffee, savouring the dark brew when a thought stuck her. “I want the frog phone.”

“What?” Jaime said as Cersei laughed. 

“Done.” 

“It’s going in your office” Sansa explained to Jaime. “It's so very _you_.”

“I guess if you insist” Jaime agreed, taking her hand and guiding it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. 

“We’d apologize for barging in” Tyrion began. “But when Jaime didn’t show up for work for the second day in a row we were a slight bit worried he’d done something rash.”

“More rash than 3 gigantic billboards?” Sansa smiled at Jaime. 

“More like chained you to the bed and wouldn’t let you go” Cersei added. “Plus we brought food, so--”

“Food?” Sansa asked, suddenly feeling much more awake. “Good, I’m starving” she set her coffee aside and crossed to the bags on the kitchen counter. “Oh, you didn’t just bring food, you brought good food!”

“Do I look like a Plebeian?” Cersei glared. 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Sansa said, carrying the large trays of Mirenesse takeout to the table while Jaime stood to grab plates. As they worked, there was a loud knock at the door a second before the ‘Great Lion’ himself burst in, several papers in his hand. 

“Dad?” Jaime greeted with confusion. 

“I went to your office to look for you and saw this” Tywin explained, setting Sansa’s letter of resignation on the counter. “Are you really resigning?” 

“No, its a fake letter” Sansa scoffed, grabbing another plate from the cabinet. 

“If you’re going to be my daughter, I will treat you like one, young lady” Tywin reasoned, fixing her with a stare. Sansa glanced to where Jaime stood across the kitchen, his cheeks flushed and eyes averted. Interesting.

“Yes, I resigned. Jaime accepted, it's done.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to that Baratheon--” 

“No” Sansa shook her head. “I am going into business for myself. I am going back to my roots, back to painting.”

“Oh” Tywin smoothed the wrinkled papers and cleared his throat. “Well, in that case… congratulations.” 

“Thanks” Sansa laughed and motioned to an open chair. “Now sit and eat, _Pop_.” As Tywin made his way to the table, Sansa felt Jaime’s arms wrap around her, hugging her tightly to his chest. “We’re overrun with Lannisters” she whispered. 

“Sorry, I tried to deter her,” he replied, referring to Cersei. 

“It’s alright” she said. “I am sure that Yohn won’t be any easier. In fact, he might be terrifying enough to out-do those three Lannisters.” 

“Great” Jaime chuckled. “Just great.” 

“You’ll be fine” she patted his arms where they were wrapped around her. “Now let me go so I can eat. I am starving.” 

“Burned too many calories with me, huh?” he whispered against the shell of her ear. 

“Oh, shut up” she laughed, sneaking away from his grip and joining the Lannisters at the table. 

Jaime watched Sansa from his position on the couch in his apartment. From here, he could observe her as she painted in the large picture windows that faced the city. ‘The light is better here’, she reasoned and he had no objections to rearranging the furniture to accommodate her easel and supplies. It was one of those baby steps, he told himself. First her easel and then the rest of her things would soon follow. His admiration, however, was torn between the haunting painting that she was working on and the woman herself. 

The painting was beautiful, depicting a terrifying looking lion who seemed to be stalking a little girl that was idly conjuring stars in her hands. The little girl was facing the viewer, the lion looming behind her in such a way that made him tense just looking at it. 

Sansa, however, was naked save for a few paint splotches and looked absolutely stunning. 

He had never considered that, in the privacy of her own home (or in this case, his home), she wouldn’t need to bother with clothing while she painted and the pleasant surprise was much appreciated. He should be working himself, he glanced to the laptop on the coffee table but made no move to grab it, he was enjoying this far more. 

As quietly as possible, he grabbed his phone from beside the laptop and opened the camera, snapping a photo of Sansa as she worked. 

“I heard that” she said without turning to face him, amusement in her voice. 

“So?” he smirked, taking another photo. “I can’t admire you?” he asked as he set one of the photos as his home screen. Now, everytime he unlocked his phone he would see what had become his new favorite sight. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be working, rather than admiring me?”

“Work can wait” he gave a shrug and she turned to smile back at him. 

“A Lannister telling work to ‘wait’, how novel” she teased, turning back to her work. 

“One day you’ll stop busting my balls” he laughed. 

“Darling, I am very good to your balls” she set her brush down and wiped her hands before she stood. He was half-hard, just watching her as she walked towards him, all long slender curves and porcelain skin. She moved with such fluid grace that he absently thought she could have been a runway model, if she so chose. 

“Yes, yes you are” he agreed, his brain having trouble forming thoughts as she lowered herself to straddle his lap. His hands were on her thighs as soon as she was settled, smoothing over the warm flesh to her hips. As his hands travelled her back, Sansa sighed and arched under his touch. “How is it that the Gods have made a woman this beautiful?” 

“Flattery will get you _everywhere_, Lannister” she all but purred as he stroked her skin. 

“I am perfectly content exactly where I am” he watched her eyes flutter closed as his hands traced her ribcage and then cupped her breasts. The weight filled his palm and he ran his thumbs over each distended peak, coaxing a soft whimper from her lips. “Beautiful.”

“I love your hands” she sighed. 

“Just my hands?” 

“Just” a smirk played at her lips. 

“Shame then, that they’re attached to the rest of me.” 

“Pity” she agreed as she ground her core against him. 

“Sansa” he growled a warning and she leaned down to kiss him, deftly parting his lips with her tongue to tease him. He was so distracted by her kiss that he didn’t realize she was unbuckling his belt and pants until her hand wrapped around his cock. He groaned into her kiss and he felt her smile as she firmly gripped him. 

“This” she stroked him, twisting her wrist and wringing a groan from him. “This is mine.”

“Fuck” he growled. 

“Mine” she repeated. 

“Then this” he slid a hand from her breasts to cup her folds. “Is mine.” 

“Show me” she challenged and with a growl he shoved her hand away from his cock, grabbed her hip and guided himself to her entrance. He used his strength to pull her onto his cock, sheathing himself with a grunt. “Fuck” Sansa hissed.

“Mine” he promised her and she whimpered, rocking her hips to take him deeper. Sansa made slow, easy work of riding him, leaning back and clinging to his shoulders for leverage as she moved. He sat back, watching her take her pleasure, admiring her every movement. 

“So good” she whispered, her hands sliding to his hair, tugging on the locks and he knew that he was never going to keep his hair short again.

“I could watch you ride my cock for hours” he muttered. 

“I could ride your cock for hours” she leaned closer, whispering against his lips. “But I really” she kissed him briefly. “Really want to come.” 

“Well, what are you going to do about that?” he challenged.

“What are _you_ going to do about that,” she countered and he chuckled, sitting up to wrap his arms around her back, helping her to grind on him. “Yes” she sighed. 

“Beautiful” he carded his hands into her hair, tugging it gently until she arched against him. She felt incredible wrapped around him, soaked, hot and snug, and he had to grind his teeth several times to stave off his own release. “My beautiful Sansa. That’s it baby girl, take what you need, come for me.” 

“Jaime” she gasped, hips stuttering as her pace increased. 

“That’s it” he encouraged, smiling to himself as he watched her fall apart. It was glorious, powerful and breath-taking, her cry of pleasure echoing in the apartment at the same time he felt her core flex and tighten around him. He growled a string of expletives as he came, pouring into her in hard pulses that seemed to drain him of his strength.

Sansa collapsed across his chest, her nude body pressed tightly to his fully clothed one. He wrapped his arms around her, hands absently smoothing over her back. She turned her head and he felt her lips press to the side of his neck before she sat up, smiling softly at him. 

“Hey” she whispered. 

“Hey you.” 

“I love you, you know.” 

“I know,” he replied, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. 

“As long as you know” she shifted and he felt his cock slip from her folds, accompanied by their mixed fluids and his heart nearly stopped.  
“Fuck” he choked out. 

“What?” she frowned and followed his eyes. “Oh--”

“I didn’t even realize--I mean, I should have known cause it felt so damned good” he blabbered nervously. “But fuck--”

“Jaime--”

“I don’t mind the idea of children, but I wouldn’t want to force them on you----”

“Jaime” she laughed, shaking her head as she patted him on the chest. “Stop.”

“But you could be pregnant and we’re not married yet--”

“Jaime, I’m on the pill” she told him. “We never discussed it, we just sort of used condoms from the start.” 

“You mean” he swallowed thickly, his heart finally slowing back to a normal pace. “You mean..”

“We’re safe” she explained. 

“Well that’s very good” he felt a smirk build on his lips. “Because this” he ran his fingers through her folds where his spend lingered. “This is mine.” 

“Are you sure he won’t hit me?” Jaime asked nervously as they stood in front of the large Victorian home. 

Sansa laughed, shaking her head as she squeezed his hand and he turned to look at her, admiring her beauty. After several days hidden in his apartment, they had finally gone by her place so that she could shower and clean up properly before they made their way to Runestone. 

As they grew closer to the place Sansa called ‘home’, he couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous at the prospect of meeting her, for all intents and purposes, Father. This was big, he knew it was, in terms of relationships and moving forward, and he was afraid of fucking it up. After all, so far Yohn only knew that Sansa had run here after their meeting, and that can’t have left a good taste in his mouth. 

“He won’t hit you” Sansa assured him, opening the wrought iron gate. “I promise.”

“Right” Jaime was still skeptical, but held tightly to the bottle of whisky and Sansa as they walked up the path. The door opened as they reached the steps and Jaime was certain he was looking at the largest man he’d ever seen. “Shit” he muttered, looking from the man’s great height to his broad shoulders and imposing size. 

“Princess” the man’s deep voice greeted and he pulled Sansa into a hug. Sansa released Jaime’s hand to hug him back and Jaime felt oddly bereft. 

“Yohn, this is Jaime” Sansa said with a smile. “Jaime, my dad, Yohn.” 

“Sir” Jaime offered his hand and the older man took it in a crushing grip. “It's a pleasure to meet you” he tried not to grimace as Yohn turned the bones in his hand to dust.

“Nice to finally meet you” Yohn said with a smile that was in direct contrast to the devastation he was raining on Jaime’s hand. “Come in, get out of the chill” he said as he released Jaime’s hand and he flexed his fingers, willing the feeling to come back into them. 

Sansa must have sensed his discomfort because she gently took his hand in hers and led him inside. It was what he imagined a home would look like. Not a modern Lannister penthouse, but a house filled with warmth and wooden furniture. The foyer gave way to a large living room with sofas focused on a large fireplace and stone mantle.

His eyes were drawn to the gilded frame and large portrait of Yohn painted in Renaissance style, complete with bronze armor. It was impeccably detailed and he found himself drawn closer to it, eyes looking every shadow and rune. 

“Sansa painted that” Yohn’s deep voice surprised him and he almost jumped a bit. “Her first portrait, I believe.” 

“It was” Sansa nodded in agreement. 

“A Father’s benefit” Yohn smiled. “I have an original painting and didn’t have to pay a five figure price tag.”

“Five figure” Jaime paled. “Wow.”

“Sansa is very talented” Yohn continued. “I am glad that she has decided to pick the brushes up once again.” 

“So am I. She has too much talent to be wasted on ads” Jaime agreed, suddenly remembering the bottle of whisky in his hands. “I was so distracted by the painting, I almost forgot” he extended the bottle to Yohn who took it with a smile. 

“My favorite, however did you know?” he smirked and turned to Sansa. “It’s almost as if you’re trying to soften me up.” 

“Maybe” Sansa smiled and Jaime could see the ease and affection between them. Here, at Runestone, he felt as if he was seeing a glimpse into a much younger Sansa, a much more carefree girl. Even her smile held admiration for her Father, and he found it enchanting. “Or maybe we just wanted to do something nice. I did impose on you for an entire week.” 

“You’re never an imposition, Princess” Yohn corrected with a laugh. “Shall we open this, have a drink while we wait for dinner to be ready?” 

“Absolutely” Sansa agreed and Jaime followed her lead as they crossed to the sideboard, looking on as Yohn poured them all a few fingers of the amber liquid. Sansa released his hand as they were each handed a tumbler and Yohn raised his glass. 

“To brighter futures and good choices” Yohn’s gaze seemed to cut through Jaime and he felt the warning reverberate in his veins. 

“Cheers” Sansa said and Jaime followed suit as they sipped their drinks. 

“Now then” Yohn motioned to the couches. “Jaime, have you pulled your head out of your ass?” 

“Yohn!” Sansa gasped but the older man didn’t look the damndest bit apologetic. 

“I have” Jaime replied with a smile, he’d been prepared for this portion of the conversation. “We’ve talked, gotten everything out in the open and we’re in agreement on moving forward.”

“Good” Yohn sipped his drink and, Jaime noticed, winked at Sansa who only shook her head and smiled. “Sansa deserves the best.”

“And I will endeavor to be worthy of her” Jaime agreed as Sansa’s phone rang from her purse. He watched her check the caller-ID and frown. “Who is it?”

“My neighbor” she explained as she took the call. “Lyanna, what’s---no, I’m not home” he watched her eyes widen. “What?!” several more seconds passed and then the call ended. “I have to go--we have to go.” 

“What happened?” Yohn asked before Jaime could. 

“My apartment’s on fire” Sansa looked shell-shocked, eyes wide and pallor ashen. 

“I’m going with you” Yohn set his drink aside and stood, moving to the kitchen where there were sounds of him putting dinner on hold. 

“Fire” Sansa whispered and Jaime helped her to her feet, putting her bag over his shoulder. 

“Dinner will keep” Yohn explained when he reappeared. “Let’s go.” 

Jaime and Yohn helped Sansa to Jaime’s waiting car, settling her into the back seat before he and Yohn slid into the front. His spacious luxury car didn’t seem so spacious with Yohn’s large frame in the passenger seat. He drove as quickly as possible, stealing glances at Sansa who was unmoving in the back. 

“I don’t understand, we weren't there that long, there’s nothing on” she whispered. 

“Sometimes fires happen” Yohn explained, his years in construction obviously teaching him that lesson. “Electrical, maybe, I don’t know but we'll find out.” 

Jaime frowned at Sansa’s confusion and the idea that she could, at this very moment, be losing everything. He turned onto her street and the sight that awaited him stole his breath. Emergency vehicles were everywhere and flames billowed from her apartment’s shattered windows. 

“Oh my Gods” she choked out, rushing from the car as soon as he parked behind a police car. 

“You can’t park here--”

“That’s my apartment!” Sansa interrupted the young police officer. 

“You’re Sansa Stark?” he asked. 

“Yes” she nodded. 

The officer turned back to the others, “I got her! She’s here, she’s alive!” he told them before turning back to Sansa. “Come with me.” They followed the police officer to what looked like the command staff, all of them looking over Sansa with curious eyes. 

“What happened?” Sansa asked the fire department’s captain. 

“Not sure yet, we’re still working to get it under control” the man whose name tag read ‘Selmy’ explained. “Its burning hot and fast.” 

“Gods” Sansa wavered on her feet and Jaime wrapped an arm around her, helping her to sit on the bumper of the fire truck. 

“Breathe” he whispered, crouching in front of her. “Breathe.” 

“I’m going to lose everything,” she whimpered. “I am going to be homeless--”

“You have Yohn and you have me, you’re more than welcome to stay with either one of us I am sure. You will never be homeless, San” he said. “I am very grateful that you weren’t home.” 

“Yeah, that’s good, I guess…” there was an explosion and everyone around them collectively ducked as more glass fell from the sky. Yohn joined them, standing guard beside Sansa and himself, all of them watching the first responders as they worked, helpless to do anything but wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry....


	12. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the delay on this chapter. I knew what I wanted to write, but I had an accident on Christmas and was a bit delayed in being able to physically write it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and please, please don't cry.

Jaime quietly pulled the bedroom door closed, giving one last glance to where Sansa lay tucked in, having cried herself to sleep a few minutes ago. He’d held her, tried to soothe her the best that he could but there were no words to help her through the loss of all of her possessions. 

Once the fire had been tamed and brought under control, the fire investigators got to work. Sansa had asked Captain Selmy if there was any way she could go into the apartment, to grab anything that hadn’t been ruined by fire or water. But after consulting with the men who’d put the fire out, he said there wasn’t any use, everything was gone. 

Sansa had seemed to deflate, her entire body sagging under the weight of the man’s words. She was pale, paler than he’d ever seen her and it made his heart ache. Seeing her sitting on the bumper of the firetruck, he couldn’t help but wonder if this is what she had looked like as a young woman who had just realized that her mother had excommunicated her from the entire family? 

Jaime and Yohn had done their best to help her through the fire investigator’s initial questions; did you leave anything on? Have you had electrical trouble? Do you keep any odd chemicals in your apartment? 

She had no trouble and there was nothing on aside from the fridge, which was normal and as for chemicals, she gave a watery, sardonic laugh, her paints were at Jaime’s now, so there was nothing in her mind that she could think of. 

Tucking her back into the car, Yohn and Jaime had taken her back to Jaime’s apartment where she fell apart. 

“She asleep?” Yohn asked from where he sat on Jaime’s couch. 

“Yeah” Jaime nodded. “Finally.” 

“I’d say she’s welcome to stay with me” Yohn reasoned. “But it seems that she is in good hands here.” 

“I will take care of her, that I can promise you” Jaime told the older man as a knock came at the door. A second later Cersei appeared, laden down with enormous shopping bags on each arm, Tywin behind her with a bag of food. “She’s asleep” Jaime warned them both. 

“I brought dinner” Tywin carried the bag, which boasted the logo of one of the nicest restaurants in town on the side, to the coffee table. Jaime was sure that Tywin had called in a favor in order to make them do ‘take out’. 

“I brought clothes” Cersei said, setting the bags near the hall. 

“Yohn, this is my twin sister Cersei and my father, Tywin” Jaime made the introductions as Yohn stood. “This is Sansa’s father, Yohn.” 

“Nice to meet you” Tywin shook the man’s hand as Cersei smiled in greeting. “You’ll be happy to know that the chief investigator is an old friend of mine and I have already spoken with him in terms of expediting this investigation.” 

Yohn frowned, “You’re acting as if foul play is a foregone conclusion.” 

“Have you met Brienne?” Cersei snarked and Jaime felt faint. In the chaos of the evening, it had never once crossed his mind that this could have been arson at the hands of Brienne. He’d been so focused on Sansa, on making sure that she was safe and alive, that he hadn’t thought of it. The flippancy with which Cersei said the words hit him like a brick wall, Brienne could have done this...she could have…

“Oh Gods” Jaime sank to the couch. “Did she try to fucking kill Sansa?” 

“We don’t know for certain” Tywin explained as a way to soothe him. “But I am not going to take any chances. If it was Brienne, there is nothing to stop her from setting fire to this apartment or doing something else even more rash.”

“Sansa will be protected” Jaime decided. “I will increase the security here, whatever I have to do. Hell, I’ll hire her a bodyguard if I have to.” 

“We will take it as it comes” Tywin assured him and Yohn nodded in agreement. 

“She has some things, clothing and whatnot, at my house, we can dig them out of the garage when she’s ready” Yohn added, moving to help Tywin with their late dinner. “I also have some supplies from my building days, I can increase the strength of the door and locks.”

“Good” Jaime agreed. “Whatever we have to do. Do it.”

“Do you think she should eat?” Cersei glanced to the hall that led to the master bedroom with a frown. 

“She should sleep” Yohn replied. “Knowing her, her stomach will wake her before long anyway,” he said with a smile and Jaime couldn’t help but smile with him, even though his brain was an absolute mess. Sansa was never one to ignore her rumbling stomach, that much was true.

“Jaime” his father’s voice pulled him back to the present and he looked up to see Tywin holding a plate of food. “Eat.” 

“Did you...did you tell the investigators about Brienne?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good” Jaime nodded, taking the plate from his father. “I didn’t even think--I would have told them at the scene, but I am ashamed to say that I didn’t think of it.”

“She hurts Sansa” Tywin said simply. “I will end her, Jaime.” 

“If she hurts Sansa, you’ll have to wait in line” Jaime replied and his father’s answering smirk made him smile in return. As long as they were all on the same page.

Sansa’s eyelids felt like sandpaper before she even opened them. Forcing herself to swallow, she blinked awake only to remember that she was at Jaime’s because she had lost everything. Her apartment, her furniture, her clothes...

They were just possessions, but they were _hers_ and she felt like a nearly-homeless little girl all over again. Once again she was at the mercy of her significant other and she could only pray that she wouldn’t be a burden. 

Gods, she had to start all over again, with everything. Her paints, sketchbooks and easel were here at Jaime’s, along with a few other miscellaneous clothing items, which would likely be enough to get her through until she could rifle through Yohn’s garage for more. As luck would have it, her family photographs and old paintings were at Runestone. Thank the Gods for small favors, she sighed. 

As she glanced to the plush chair in the corner of the bedroom she spotted her briefcase and a thought crossed her mind, so quickly and without preamble that it terrified her. 

What if someone---Brienne, had tried to…

“No” she whispered to herself, shaking her head. That was an insane course of thought, wasn’t it? It had to be because the reality that someone had tried to kill her was too much to bear.

Sitting up, she pushed the blanket aside and stood. She’d fallen asleep on Jaime, still in her clothes and judging by the soft voices, he was holding the others at bay and allowing her to rest. She hadn’t been asleep long, just forty-five minutes or so, so she was sure that she would sleep well later tonight.

Splashing some water on her face and pulling her hair into a ponytail, she made her way down the hall to see Yohn, Tywin, Cersei and Jaime camped out on the couches, eating and talking softly. 

“Hey” Cersei spotted her first, rushing over to hug her. Sansa hugged the shorter woman back, Cersei’s vanilla perfume surrounding her for a brief moment. 

When Cersei stepped back, Sansa was surprised to see the fashion-icon in jeans and a hoodie, her blonde hair hastily braided and she realized that Cersei must had rushed over once she heard the news. Sansa absolutely did not want to think about why Cersei was wearing a 'Storm’s End High School Football' sweatshirt.

“Hey” Sansa replied softly, her voice scratchy from crying and sleeping. 

“I brought you clothes” Cersei motioned to the bag. “Essentials, nothing fancy. We can do that together when you’re ready.” 

“Thank you” Sansa replied, following Cersei to the couches where Sansa sat beside Jaime. He reached out, taking her hand as she sat beside him and she held to it like a lifeline.

“Eat” Tywin said, pushing a plate towards her and Jaime chuckled. 

“He’s been telling everyone to do that tonight” Jaime said and Sansa smiled, looking across the table at Yohn and Tywin who were both so tall that the couch seemed to be a child’s toy beneath them. The thought almost made her laugh out loud.

“Thank you” she said numbly. 

“I am not sure if it helps” Jaime smiled. “But you have your choice of invitations.” 

“Invitations?” Sansa asked, turning to face him. 

“All of us would be happy to have you stay with us,” he explained. “Though I daresay if you went to live with my father, it would be very ...odd.” 

At that, Sansa did laugh softly, wondering just what sort of unholy shitstorm the media of Lannisport would unleash if ‘#wheressansa’ turned out to be living with Jaime’s father. Platonic or not, it would be a mess. 

“If it's all the same,” she replied. “I will just stay here. I already have my paints and some clothes here, and I...I’d rather be with you, if that’s okay?” she said quietly to Jaime. 

“Of course, I’d prefer it but I wanted you to make the call” he lifted her hand to kiss the back before releasing her. “Eat, please” he encouraged and Sansa nodded, picking up her fork to focus on her food. She looked from the food to the bag on the floor beside the coffee table and frowned, looking to Tywin who was smugly smirking. 

“I don’t want to know what you paid to get ‘Medici’s’ at this hour, do I?” she asked as she began to eat. 

“Not at all” Tywin chuckled. “Besides, the Lannisters are very well connected in this city. It never hurts to call in a few favors.” 

“Thank you, Tywin,” she replied between bites.

“There is no need, my dear” he assured her. “I have also called the chief investigator for Lannisport Fire Department and he will be personally overseeing your case. He knows that it is a matter of utmost importance.” 

“Seems like you guys handled everything while I was asleep,” she replied. 

“I feared that a delay would increase any potential risk of danger” Tywin said diplomatically and Sansa knew exactly what he _wasn’t_ saying. His thoughts echoed her earlier ones, the idea that the fire hadn’t been entirely accidently and a cold frisson of fear washed over her. 

“You will be safe” Yohn assured her, sensing her unease. He leaned forward, smiling softly “I have some locks I am going to bring tomorrow to install here, and I will beef up the door plates to ensure they’re bomb proof.”

“Big bitch probably kicks like a freight train” Cersei muttered and Sansa smiled even though the idea of having to physical fight for her life terrified her.

“You will be safe, Princess” Yohn promised.

“I am in charge of wardrobe and makeup, so don’t go shopping without me,” Cersei explained and Sansa nodded. 

“Luckily I had my purse with me, so I don’t have to go through the hassle of replacing identification and credit cards” Sansa tried her best to see a positive in the situation. 

“_Luckily_ you weren’t home” Jaime said quietly. “I can’t even think about what could have happened, it makes me sick.” 

“Fortunate indeed” Tywin agreed and Sansa resumed eating, doing her best to chew and swallow even though her appetite had vanished. 

After the food was gone, they sat on the couches for a while, conversing easily as Yohn settled in with the Lannister family. When the house grew late, Tywin rose and excused himself, offering Yohn a ride home to Runestone since he had ridden with Jaime and Sansa earlier in the evening. Yohn accepted gratefully, glad to be able to ride in what was surely the fanciest car he’d ever seen. 

The ride was mostly quiet, but after a few blocks, Tywin finally spoke. 

“My gut tells me that Brienne had something to do with this” Tywin said, his voice cold and Yohn could see how he earned his reputation and nickname. “It's too coincidental.”

“I would be inclined to agree” Yohn said. “I spoke with one of the firefighters at the scene and the building is newer, never had a problem with electrical or ventilation. This was its first fire.”

“The Chief Investigator will get to the bottom of this, of that I am certain” Tywin nodded. “It is only what happens after we learn the true that concerns me.” 

“You mean if your son will keep his head out of his ass and stand with Sansa?” 

Tywin barked out a laugh, “Oh he learned his lesson. That boy won’t let anyone hurt Sansa, that’s a damned certainty.”

“He hurts my daughter, I hurt him” Yohn saw no need to pull punches. Not after today.

“Understandable” Tywin agreed. “But not likely. Jaime will stand with Sansa. He cut Brienne from his life the day everything happened and I trust he will not make the same mistake twice.” 

“This Brienne” Yohn prompted. “She capable of this?” 

“I don’t know her very well” Tywin admitted. “But her behavior at Casterly wasn’t exemplary. She fancies herself in love with Jaime, and I could see her being upset at the situation. She did take her termination quite well.”

“How well?” 

“Too well” Tywin admitted. 

“I have property” Yohn mused into the darkness of the sedan and Tywin glanced over at him briefly before focusing on the road. “Rural property” he added. 

“I think, Mr. Yohn Royce, that we are going to be very good friends” Tywin smirked as he turned onto Yohn’s street and they shared a dark laugh. 

Yohn thanked Tywin for the ride home, shaking the man’s hand with a sad smile. While their new friendship was easy enough, they both couldn’t help but wish the circumstances under which they had finally met, were better. 

He was grateful they had come to an accord, both regarding Jaime and Brienne. While all evidence that he had seen showed him that Jaime was sincere and in love with Sansa, he had been there for the fallout before and was proceeding with caution. 

Sansa had two fathers, whether she knew it or not, but Yohn could see that Tywin Lannister genuinely cared about her. Not to mention, Yohn nearly chuckled to himself, that he and the Great Lion had all but agreed that Brienne would suffer their wrath if Sansa was hurt. 

As Tywin’s black luxury car pulled away, Yohn made his way up the path to Runestone’s door, locking the gate behind him with a melancholy whistle. Pulling his keys from his pocket he reached the front door only to stop in his tracks at the realization that he wasn’t alone. 

The figure on the front porch’s bench stood and nervously wiped his hands on his dark jeans before adjusting his thick black framed glasses. He looked pale, a bit thin but just as Yohn remembered him.

“I am not sure” he said softly, his voice filled with uncertainty. “If I still have the right to call you ‘Uncle’ Yohn but I…”

“You never lost the right. It wasn’t my decision that severed the ties” Yohn replied when his words trailed off. As the young man adjusted his footing, Yohn noticed the backpack and duffle bag at his feet. 

“No” the boy agreed with a sad laugh. “That was my mother in her _infinite wisdom_.”

“To say the least.” 

“I have nowhere else to go,” he said sadly. “And I thought that you or Sansa” he wiped his cheeks fiercely. “If she’ll even talk to me---” 

“What?” Yohn asked. “Don’t tell me that you would believe anything your mother tells you about Sansa, you’re smarter than that. Sansa isn’t a villain, she never has been. You all are the ones who abandoned her when she needed you most.” 

“I know” he admitted sadly. 

“Granted you were quite young at the time” Yohn sighed. “You can hardly change Cat’s mind once she unleashes her wrath.”

“I have nowhere to go,” he repeated, raising his hands only to have them fall limp at his sides. 

“You have Runestone” Yohn unlocked the front door before crossing to stand nearly a foot away from him, reaching out to clap his shoulder. “And I know you’ll have Sansa. I can take you to see her later today, but for now it sounds like we should talk. Inside.” 

“Yeah” he nodded, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair before picking up his backpack. Yohn easily lifted his duffle bag and escorted the younger man inside and out of the chill. It seemed that Runestone had become a haven for lost children, and Yohn’s heart warmed at the notion.

Setting the bag on the stairs, Yohn motioned him much the same way he had with Sansa not too long ago, and set him at the kitchen table while he made tea.

“Thank you” the boy said softly when Yohn handed him one of Sansa’s handmade mugs. 

“You’re not old enough to drink, or I’d have made it stronger” Yohn smiled, sitting across from him. Several minutes passed and he could tell that the boy was looking for the right words to speak. “I am here, when you’re ready, you don’t have to force it.” 

He nodded, “I knew when she found out that she’d be mad, I just didn’t realize…” he sipped his tea, both hands clutching the ceramic like it was an anchor and he was a man drowning. “But I should have known” he swallowed a sob. “Catelyn Stark would never _ever_ have a gay son” he began to cry silently, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table so that he could cover his face. 

Standing, Yohn rounded the table and wrapped his arms around the young man, thanking the Old Gods that he had thought to come to Runestone, to come to Sansa. While his timing wasn’t the greatest, life had a way of working itself out and he knew that it had happened because now, more than ever, Sansa needed family. And it seemed, a family she would have, even if it wasn’t a traditional one.

Yohn wished, more than anything in that moment, that he could shake sense into Catelyn Stark. She was so caught up in appearances, that she simply excised anything that didn’t ‘fit’ into her ideals, even if it was her own children. How you could cut your own flesh and blood from your life, he hadn’t the slightest idea. 

If Yohn had ever been blessed with children of his own, he would have gone to the ends of the world to protect them, just as he had promised to do for Sansa.

“I’m sorry” he cried and Yohn soothed him. 

“Don’t you dare apologize. You’re home now” Yohn promised him, smoothing a hand over his back. “I got you now, you’re safe here, Bran. You’re not alone, never alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	13. Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we all just admire this gorgeous [PICSET](https://sweetaprilbutterfly.tumblr.com/post/189925661258/au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion-meets-his/) from 'sweetaprilbutterfly'! Thank you so much!!! 
> 
> Thank you all for your love & support! :D <3 I am still working on 'Piety' (my open Stansa piece) but I have a lot of momentum with this story and don't want to lose it!

“Hey Lannister” Sansa grabbed Jaime’s towel-clad ass as he walked by her in the bathroom. “Come here often?”

“Not nearly as often as I’d like, Stark” he turned, smirk in place as he moved to pin her between himself and the bathroom counter. 

“You act like you’re so deprived” she teased and he shook out his hair, splashing her with the drops that had lingered there. “Ah!”

“Not deprived at all” Jaime pulled her close. “I just need to figure out how to keep my family from showing up every single day so that I can have you on every surface of this apartment. _Our_ apartment.” 

“Your family loves you, that’s a good thing.” 

“No, my family loves _you_” he corrected and she laughed. 

“Well who wouldn’t, look at me” she motioned to the baggy t-shirt she had slept in, one of Jaime’s, and her tangled hair. 

“I’m looking at you, Stark” he kissed her softly. “And I do love you.” 

“I know” she ran her hands through his hair, slicking the damp locks back. “I love you too.” His face suddenly grew serious and she couldn’t help but frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“I am going to keep you safe,” he promised, the words heavy with devotion. “I mean it--”

“Jaime” she interjected but he shook his head. 

“I love you, Sansa Stark” he tightened his arms around her, pressing his forehead to hers. “I am not going to let anyone hurt you.” 

“I know, my brave knight” Sansa assured him, giving a soft smile. “I know, Jaime and I---” she took a deep breath. “I am trying to be hopeful that it was just bad wiring, that it was a fluke and that we can just move on.”

“Me too” he admitted, closing the distance to her lips. Sansa melted into his embrace, the fresh mint taste on his lips reminding her that they had just brushed their teeth, side by side. _Domestic Bliss_ the thought danced through the back of her mind and she smiled into their kiss. 

Jaime’s hands gripped her ass and lifted her to the counter, the granite cool against her bare skin but as he stepped between her thighs, she forgot the cold altogether. A flick of the wrist was all it took to have his towel falling away, his cock springing free to greet her. She reached between their bodies to stroke him, swallowing his soft groan with her kiss. She really did love his cock, almost as much as she loved the man himself. In response, one of Jaime’s hands cupped her breast through the thin material of the shirt, easily finding her nipple to toy with it. 

Carefully scooting to the edge of the counter, Sansa guided his cock to her folds, using the blunted head to tease her clit, occasionally dipping into her folds. She couldn’t help but tease him, when his hips rocked forward in anticipation of being inside of her, she would guide him away, letting the shaft rub against her. 

“Torturing me” he pulled her lower lip gently with his teeth. 

“You want to be inside me, baby?” she stroked the length of his cock with a tight grip and he groaned. 

“You know I do” he replied with a hoarse whisper. “Don’t make me beg.” 

“Never” she taunted, aligning him with her slick channel. “Come on, baby...fuck” she sighed as he slid forward, easily filling her with every last inch of him. She wrapped her legs around him and held him close as his hands roamed her back and waist, tunneling under her t-shirt. 

“I knew the first time I saw you, Stark, that you were trouble” he rocked against her, moving in small thrusts. “And I knew the first time I buried my cock in that wonderful pussy of yours, that it was made for me.”

“Jaime” she could only sigh, her body pulled tight and completely lost to lust. She was little more than a slave to Jaime’s muttered words and the feel of his cock stretching her. And judging by the glint in his eyes, he knew it. 

“I can’t wait to home home to you every day,” he whispered, his hips thrusting harder, his slow pace now punctuated by deep, claiming movements. “To wake up to you beside me every morning” he cupped her breasts under her shirt and she arched towards him as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. “Gods you’re so fucking beautiful, look at you” he marvelled and she could barely form words. 

“Jaime--please.” 

“I love the way your pussy eats up my cock, the way you look every time I fill you” he continued, and she could only lean back, her shoulders resting against the mirror. He took the opportunity to lift her shirt and suck deeply on her breasts, covering them with soft bites and kisses, his hips never faltering. 

“Please” she sobbed. She felt him smile against her nipple, sucking the jeweled peak as his hands moved to her inner thighs, spreading her legs wide. “Oh fucking please, Jaime!” she begged and his answering growl was feral as he began to fuck her in earnest. She knew she was soaked, not only because of the smooth glide of his cock within her, but the wet squelching noises that filled the bathroom told her that they would both have to shower after this. 

“Fuck” Jaime growled, his eyes dropping to where they were joined, watching as he stuffed his length into her over and over. “I love your fucking pussy, always so soaked for me.” 

“Yes” she pleaded. 

“I want you to come for me” he growled. “Gods, I just want you to soak my cock with your cum.” 

“Oh fuck yes” she cried out, bracing her hands on the wall and counter at her sides. She watched Jaime as he pounded away, feeling her orgasm building deep within her. She was crying and begging incoherently as he fucked her and when it hit her, she felt the air rushing from her body as the edges of her vision went black. She could hear Jaime whispered something against her ear, but she couldn’t make out the words as her body rode its incredible high. She barely registered his own growl of pleasure as he came, his cum jetting into her fluttering core. 

“Fuck” his word broke into her haze. “You fucking came all over the place” he gave a breathless laugh. “That was so fucking hot” he added and she gave a soft laugh of her own, her body boneless and trembling. 

“We should” she swallowed, trying to catch her breath. “I should shower before Yohn gets here” she reasoned, knowing that Yohn would be here soon with his bag of door-strengthening tricks. 

“I certainly don’t want him to catch us like this” Jaime laughed and she shook her head. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Come on, Stark” he stepped back, his cock slipping from her and she felt the warm trail of his seed on her folds. “Fuck, that’s so hot” he trailed a finger across her clit and she jumped at the overly-sensitive touch. “That wrecked, huh?” he asked smugly.

“Shut up, Lannister” she pushed herself to a sitting position. “You wrecked it, now you have to bathe it and help it dress.” 

“Yes, ma’am” he smiled, using his towel to clean up the floor and the counter before tossing it in the hamper. “Shower time it is” he helped her to her feet and she kissed him softly. 

“Love you” she sighed. 

“Love you back.” 

An hour later had them cleaned, dressed and in the kitchen cleaning up their lunch dishes when the doorbell rang. 

“I’ll get it” Jaime kissed her cheek and wandered out of the kitchen. 

“Good afternoon!” Sansa smiled as Yohn’s voice sounded in the apartment and she wiped her hands on the kitchen towel as Jaime called her name. 

“San” she frowned at Jaime’s tone and set the towel aside. 

“What?” she rounded the corner but her entire body froze at the tall, slender _man_ that stood beside Yohn. She knew that man, but the last time she had seen him, he had been a boy. “B...Bran?” tears surged forth, pouring down her cheeks. 

“Hello San” he said with that unsure smile of his. 

“Bran?” she sobbed, covering her mouth with her hands to stifle the sound. Her legs felt weak, her body numb as she cried. The last twenty-four hours had been a roller coaster, but this… “Oh my Gods” she choked out as Bran crossed the apartment to stand before her. He was nearly as tall as her now, more man than the little boy she had known before, certainly with longer hair. 

“Hi” he said softly and she couldn’t stop herself, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close, crying harder than she had in years. She couldn’t believe he was here! Her baby brother! Here!

“You’re here” she whispered as he returned her hug. “Oh my Gods, you’re real.” 

“I, uh” he said against her hair, his voice filled with tears. “I had nowhere else to go.” 

“Oh Gods” her heart ached at those simple words. “No, you’re here now, you belong here” she promised him. “With me and Jaime, or with Yohn, wherever you want.” She reluctantly released him, wiping her eyes to look him over. “Oh, you’ve gotten so tall.” 

“It's been a few years, yeah.”

“We have so much to talk about” Sansa smiled. “So much to catch up on!”

He nodded, running a hand through his shaggy chocolate brown hair, “I know.” 

“Why don’t you two sit and catch up” Jaime crossed to her side, wiping her cheeks with a smile. “Yohn and I will work on the door.”

“Alright” Sansa smiled brightly. “Jaime, this is my little brother, Bran.” 

“We’ve just met, yes” Jaime smiled over at the younger man. “And if he needs a place to live, our home is open to him,” he assured her and Sansa felt her heart clench, overflowing with love.

“Thank you” she replied, kissing his cheek before she took Bran’s hand. “Now, tell me everything” she led him back to the couches and sat beside him unable to take her eyes from him for fear that he would vanish. 

Bran hadn’t known what awaited him when he left Wintertown and the North behind. He had been scared and alone, the feeling of being lost weighing on him like two tons of rock. He’d packed only what he could carry and piled into his ancient Jeep that he had, fortunately, paid for with his after-school job money and driven south. To the only person he could think of. 

Trouble was, aside from knowing that Sansa was in the city of Lannisport, he didn’t know exactly where. So he set course for Runestone and prayed that the older man who had once been an uncle, wouldn’t turn him away. 

Now, he found himself sitting in a penthouse apartment owned by Jaime Lannister, the man who had published those enormous billboards that had driven his mother up the wall. And she was here, alive and more beautiful than he had anticipated; Sansa.

The older sister who had babysat him when they were young, who had driven him to the candy shop and movie theatre as soon as she had gotten her driver’s license. Sansa. The sister that he would run to when he had a bad dream or there was a storm--he’d crawl into bed with her and she would tuck him in, promise that he was safe. The one who helped make his costumes for Halloween and school plays because his Mother was too busy with garden parties and society events. 

The one that their Mother had excommunicated--that their Mother had, effectively, killed. 

“Bran” Sansa smiled warmly. “Gods, you’re so handsome, I can hardly believe it. It's been a long time. You’re what? Twenty-one now?”

“Next month, yeah. It's been too long” he replied. “I would have come sooner but…” 

“I know” Sansa gave a sad smile, holding his hand. 

“Mom--Catelyn,” he corrected with a grimace. “She’s a real piece of work.” 

“Preaching to the choir” Sansa laughed.

“Everything is much the same as it always was” Bran explained. “Robb is married to a woman that Mother chose for him. They have two kids now. Two girls.” 

“Oh” Sansa frowned. 

“I am sure, in time, they will be perfect little debutantes” Bran scoffed. “Arya married a Manderly, but I doubt they’ll have kids. It isn’t exactly a loving marriage.” 

“What a mess” Sansa whispered. “And Rickon?”

“Still in school, just barely” Bran told her. “And Dad’s still got his head in the sand, ignoring everything that happens around him.” 

“He isn’t my father” Sansa said firmly. “Not truly. Yohn has always been more of a father to me than Ned Stark.” 

“She told us that you’d fallen in with a bad crowd in the Vale” Bran explained. “Drugs, prostitution and various other crimes. She told us that you’d threatened to kidnap and ransom Rickon, that you’d try anything to get a fix. She changed all of our numbers before we knew what had happened.” 

“Fuck” Sansa shook her head. “No, I promise you, there was nothing like that. I changed my major, Bran. I wanted to study art history, I wanted to paint and she wouldn’t listen.”

“She never does” Bran reasoned. “She told most of society that you had died of a drug overdose, that you were a shame to the Stark name but when the billboards went up and then there were photos of you and Jaime in the paper, she went ballistic. You made a liar out of her to all of her peers, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so mad.”

“I had wondered if you guys would have seen them” Sansa mused. 

“Well they certainly weren’t subtle” Bran said, glancing to where Jaime and Yohn were working on the front door, installing additional locks and longer screws. “Jaime Lannister, huh?” 

“Yeah” Sansa smiled, looking to her boyfriend and Bran could see the affection in her eyes. 

“You love him?”

“Yeah, I do,” she replied. “He’s just wonderful, he truly is.”

“I’m gay, San” he said and she looked back to him as if she were waiting for the rest of the sentence. 

“That’s it?” she asked when he didn’t continued. 

“Yeah, that’s all it took.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay, Bran, you know that right?” she took his hands and held them tight. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Everything that is wrong, is wrong with Catelyn Stark.” 

“I didn’t mean for her to find out” Bran shook his head. “I knew it would be an argument when she did. But Rickon saw me with T and told Mother when she caught him sneaking out...Gods it was so bad.” 

“I’m so sorry, Bran” she shifted closer on the couch and wrapped her arms around him. “I am so sorry that she can’t see beyond her petty bullshit, but I am not sorry that you’re here.” 

“I had hoped that Yohn would know where you were” Bran said as she released him. “I was never really close with him like you were, but Runestone was in Lannisport and so were the billboards. My chances were good.” 

“I am glad you came,” she assured him. “And your boyfriend? Does he know where you are?” 

“No” Bran admitted, knowing that his boyfriend would likely be losing his mind. It wasn’t like he could go to Winterfell and ask to see him, his mother would likely kill him if he did that. Not only was Bran gay, but his boyfriend was older and significantly less ‘socially acceptable’ than Catelyn would ever accept. But they’d been together for nearly a year and Bran felt guilty that he had run South rather than to the Far North. 

He couldn't explain why, only that he needed Sansa. He needed that big sister that had always wrapped him in a quilt and promised that everything was going to be okay. He had googled, when the billboards hit the news, and found more photos of her with Jaime. Suddenly, after all these years she was _alive_ and real. He needed to know that she was healthy and happy, and when he’d been cut out of the Stark family, he had to get to her, she would make it better. She always had. 

“You need to call him” Sansa pulled her phone from her pocket and pressed it into his hand. 

“He’ll probably show up” Bran chuckled. “He’s a bit outgoing.” 

“Then he shows up” Sansa smiled. “We have a spare room here, I suspect it might be easier to stay here than with Yohn.” 

“Yeah” Bran nodded. “Plus, I am really good with computers and Yohn mentioned you guys needed cameras.”

“We do” Sansa nodded. “I am sure Jaime will appreciate the help.” 

“I will do what I can, pull my weight until I can get a job--” 

“Bran” Sansa cut him off, patting his hands with a smile. “You take all the time you need. Money isn’t a problem and you’ve had to uproot your life in a single day. Don’t worry. Start with the important things, like calling your man-friend and letting him know that you’re alright.” 

“Right” Bran raised the phone in his hand. “What is the address here?” 

“412 Ashemark, we’re in the penthouse,” she said. “Spare bedroom is down the hall on the left, you can talk with him there.” 

“Thank you, San” he said and made his way through the apartment, sparing a glance for the easel and painting that sat near the windows. Sitting on the queen-sized bed with a dark grey quilt on the top, he dialed the number and his send. 

Jaime wrapped his arms around Sansa, both of them now standing in the large window in the living room. She'd been watching the city for a while and as soon as Jaime finished the dishes from dinner, he gave into the urge to hold her. 

“Hey you” he kissed the soft skin of her neck and she leaned back against him. 

“Hey” she whispered back. 

"What a day, huh?" 

"What a few days" Sansa agreed. “He’s a man now, almost twenty-one.” 

“As far as siblings go, you two don’t look anything alike” Jaime smiled softly. 

“He’s all Stark” Sansa explained. “I look like my Mother.” 

“Ah” Jaime rested his chin on her shoulder, grateful that she was tall enough for this to be supremely comfortable. “You know, pretty soon, your mother isn’t going to have any children left.” 

Sansa laughed softly, “She told them I was a druggie, others she told I was dead.” 

“I honestly hope that I never have occasion to meet Catelyn Stark” Jaime said honestly. "I've never hit a woman before, but I would be hard pressed not to shake her violently."

“No, I hope not either” Sansa agreed. “My brother Robb is married and has two daughters,” she said softly. “I’ve missed so much. It's easier not to think about it, right? To move forward with rebuilding and hope that your siblings are safe, happy. But they went on with their lives, never even sparing a thought to _help_ me or reach out” she sniffed back tears and he tightened his hold around her. “I’d have done anything to help them if the situations were reversed.” 

“But you’re a much stronger person” Jaime explained. “You broke loose of Catelyn’s hold, they’re still too weak to do that.” 

“Bran’s man-friend is Free Folk” Sansa said. “I am sure my Mother’s head fucking exploded at that.” 

“Quiet, soft-spoken Bran is with a Wilding?” Jaime chuckled. “Oh man, they must be quite a pair.” 

“Hush” Sansa chided, playfully smacking his hand. 

“You know” Jaime smirked. “It is going to be kind of fun, making love to you in the apartment and trying not to wake the youngin’.”

“Oh?” 

“Good practice for the future” he nuzzled his face against her neck and she let out that breathy sigh that he adored so much. 

“Lannister, do you have baby fever?” she teased. 

“No comment” he kissed just below her ear. 

“Lannis--” a pounding knock came at the door and they both went still. 

“Building security, Mr. Lannister” a voice called. 

“What in the name of The Stranger” Jaime released Sansa and crossed to the door. He opened it to find two armed security guards in suits, one on each side of a tall, broad man with a bright red beard. “Yes?” 

“This man is insisting that he see you” the guard on the left said. “He’s been making quite a fuss in the lobby.” 

The man grumbled, shaking his head and Jaime noticed that his red hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of his head. He was clean, well-dressed and his beard was neatly trimmed, but there was something about him...something untamed. And then it clicked.

“Who is it?” Sansa asked behind him and Jaime laughed. 

“I think it's the Wilding man-friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Can you guess who the man-friend is? :D


	14. Part 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who guessed Tormund, and were immediately on board with this new ship, I love you. You're going to love gay best friend Tormund, I just know it. 
> 
> I hope you love this chapter. A bit more plot, background and fluff before...other stuff. 0:-D

Jaime didn’t know what to make of the ‘Wildling Man-Friend’ that was sitting across the table from him and Sansa, gratefully eating the quick dinner they had put together for him. Once Bran had appeared, sleep rumpled and groggy, to confirm that it was in fact his ‘man-friend’ at the door, Jaime had security release him and ushered the man inside. 

As soon as the man was free to do so, he was across the room, hugging Bran tightly and speaking softly to the younger man. And it was clear that the wildling was a few years older than Bran Stark’s own near twenty-one. Not to mention broad of shoulder, and clearly a man’s man, not what he had expected, that was for sure.

Bran had made introductions, smiling at Sansa when he said “I told you he’d show up.” Sansa had only smiled and shook the man’s hand, welcoming him to the city. 

Now, they were sitting around the table enjoying casual conversation as if the past forty-eight hours hadn’t been the strangest in he and Sansa’s lives. 

“I was already heading south when Bran called me” Tormund explained with a smile before looking to Sansa. “He told me about you, before everything happened, and I thought that you might be where he ran to. Once I knew the address, it didn't take long to find it.” 

Sansa nodded, “I am glad that he came to Lannisport.” 

“You know” Tormund smiled across the table at Jaime. “You and Bran have something in common” he smirked. “You are both kissed by fire.” 

“I bet we are” Jaime muttered, wincing when he felt Sansa’s elbow collided with his ribs. 

“Gods T” Bran rolled his eyes, but his smile was wider than it had been since his arrival. It was interesting to see the dynamic at play and how much Bran had brightened at Tormund’s arrival. It was like seeing another facet to the young man, something that seemed to shine in this man's vibrant personality.

“What?” Tormund smiled at Bran. “My Wolf King doesn’t agree that gingers are beautiful?” 

“Wolf King?” Jaime muttered and Sansa elbowed him again. “What?” he whispered to her. 

“Stop” he barely suppressed a giggle as she chastised him. 

“I knew that my Wolf would head south, look for his lost pack member” Tormund nodded, turning back to Jaime and Sansa. “I wasn’t going to let him face all this alone. Not after that witch of a mother of his.” 

“That’s putting it nicely” Sansa agreed. 

“She’s certainly not making friends in the North” Tormund said flippantly. “The Free Folk have already cut ties with the Starks,” he chuckled. “Can’t imagine she has much use for us ‘trailer trash’ anyway.” 

“She’s burning bridges that she is standing on” Sansa reasoned. “I can’t feel sorry for her.” 

“Just wait until Rickon’s drug problems hits the news,” Tormund said sadly, focusing on the last of his dinner. 

“What?” Sansa asked and Jaime felt her body stiffen beside him. 

“I work for the Park Service in the Far North” Tormund explained as he finished his meal. “Rickon and his friends like to drive into the woods to party. Always leave a mess behind. Last time we caught them, one of the Glover boys took the fall. It won’t be long until they get caught again.” 

“What a mess” Sansa sighed, running her hands through her hair. “Either she doesn’t know or she is doing her best to squash the news. Either way, I can’t blame him” she gave a sardonic laugh. “I would be doped out of my mind if I had to live with her too.” 

“You know” Tormund said, watching Sansa keenly. “She said you were a drug addict too, but you are too beautiful for that. Teeth are too good. I am glad I did not believe her.” 

“Oh, thank you” Sansa laughed and Jaime leaned forward. 

“You stick to your wolf, Wildling Man-Friend, I’ll stick to mine” Jaime said and Tormund’s laughter filled the kitchen. 

“Oh, I like you” Tormund stood, clapping Jaime briefly on the shoulder before carrying his plate to the sink to rinse it, a surprising show of manners that Jaime hadn’t expected. “But you’re not my type” he winked and then Sansa’s laugh sounded beside him. 

“Oh, good” Jaime shook his head, smiling at the madness that his life had become. 

“It’s late” Sansa said, glancing to her watch. “You have to be in the office tomorrow, don’t you?” 

“Unfortunately” Jaime nodded, then looked to Tormund. “Park service, you say?” 

“Yes” Tormund nodded. 

“You packing?” 

“Always” Tormund replied. 

“Good, you’ve been drafted” Jaime explained. “Sansa needs a bodyguard--”

“Jaime” Sansa protested but he cut her off. 

“I promised you would be safe, if Brienne is behind this, I won’t risk you being hurt again” Jaime said and Tormund frowned. 

“Someone tried to hurt Sansa?” 

“Her apartment burned down” Jaime said simply. “On the wake of a rather nasty blow up at work.” 

“I see” Tormund nodded. “I can protect her, I will be in town for a while. Where my Wolf King goes, I go.” 

“It shouldn’t be long, we should hear back from the Chief Investigator soon” Jaime reasoned. “She paints here at home, but I would feel better if Sansa wasn’t alone on errands and whatnot. I am sure there will be a lot or errands as she replaces things from her apartment.” 

“Jaime, really, is this necessary?” 

“Yes” Jaime, Bran and Tormund all said at the same time and Sansa frowned. 

“You’re all just in this together aren’t you” she pouted. 

“Your safety is paramount” Jaime wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple. “And now you have your very own wildling man-guard” he whispered into her ear, laughing when she smacked his butt.

“Come on, Lannister” she replied. “Take me to bed.” 

“Yes, ma’am” Jaime agreed, turning back to Tormund and Bran. “Spare room is yours for as long as you need it, you’re always welcome to share our home” he assured them and Sansa’s arm tightened around his waist in silent ‘thanks’.

“Thank you” Tormund offered his hand and Jaime shook his, then nodded to Bran before they made their way to their bedroom. Once safely inside, behind the door, Sansa’s giggle reached his ears and Jaime looked up in time to see her flop onto the bed, laughing into the pillow. Smiling, Jaime crossed to lay beside her. 

“Oh my Gods, Jaime” she whispered. “Did you see him? He’s so big! And loud!”

“Bran has caught himself a bear, that’s for sure” Jaime smirked and Sansa’s giggles renewed. 

“No wonder my Mom lost her shit” Sansa shook her head. “He’s the manliest man in the North!”

“That is only because I am here in West” Jaime smirked and Sansa laughed. 

“Of course, no doubt about it,” she agreed. 

“Don’t mock me, Stark” Jaime pulled her close, covering her lips with a soft kiss. 

“I would never” she feigned shock. 

“Uh huh” he kissed her again. 

“Let’s talk about you giving me an armed guard” she draped a leg over his hips, making it hard for him to think. 

“I want you safe,” he explained. “I meant it. No chances. Not until we know for sure.” 

“Alright, but I can’t promise I will take him to meet Yohn.” 

“Oh Gods.”

“He’s liable to have a heart attack” she giggled and buried her face in his neck. Jaime held her tightly, savouring the sounds of happiness exuding from his girlfriend. She’d been sad for too long, he was grateful that those days were in the past. 

“Oh Gods” Sansa’s sides hurt from laughing and she couldn’t seem to stop. Never in her life had she met someone as boisterous and flat-out _funny_ as Tormund Giantsbane. She didn’t imagine that taking him shopping for paints and a few other items would result in her body hurting from laughter. 

Currently they were debating whether or not Tormund would need to go into the lingerie store with her, a more hilarious discussion she had never had. When you lost everything to an apartment fire, it was hard to think of everything that you had to replace until you needed it, and when she realized that she had lost _all_ of her lingerie, she was determined to replace it quickly. 

Bran was back at the penthouse, installing several new cameras and upgrading the security system, in his own little world of technology that he was content to remain in. It was nice to see her younger brother so happy.

“It is maybe because you think I can’t control myself?” Tormund smirked, motioning to the storefront with his coffee-cup filled hand. “That I will suddenly realize that I am not gay?”

“No” Sansa laughed, shaking her head. “It would be like shopping with my _brother_.” 

“No, your brother would not wear this” he wildly motioned to the window and she couldn’t stop laughing. 

“I don’t want to know--” she turned to the right as saw a familiar form on the sidewalk. 

“We know him?” Tormund asked, his tone suddenly very serious. 

“That’s Robert Baratheon and his brother Stannis” Sansa explained. “Stannis offered me a job once, not too long ago.” 

“Dangerous?” 

“Only to a girl’s self-control” she winked at Tormund and he laughed that deep booming laugh of his. 

“Robert is with Cersei, Jaime’s sister.” 

“The big one?” Tormund looked over Robert’s large, broad form. “He looks like he could take down a city bus.” 

“Probably comes in handy in dealing with Cersei” Sansa replied as the men reached them. “Robert, Stannis, good afternoon.” 

“Afternoon” Stannis cleared his throat, glancing to the lingerie store-front briefly before his eyes landed on Tormund. “I heard about your apartment, I am very sorry.”

“Thank you” Sansa replied. “It was certainly unexpected.” 

“You didn’t do it, did you?” Tormund smirked and Sansa almost choked on her latte. 

“Funny” Stannis said dryly. “But no, arson isn’t my style, but I--I’m sorry, who are you?” he asked Tormund. 

“He’s my brother-in-law” Sansa explained, patting Tormund on the arm. 

“Ah” Stannis nodded. “Well then, I will leave you to your shopping. Just know, Sansa, that my offer still and always stands.” 

“Thank you, but my answer is still ‘no’,” she told him with a strained smile. 

“Have a good day” Stannis gave a nod, he and Robert resuming their walk up the sidewalk. 

“Gods is he serious” Tormund said, shaking his head. 

“Well you did just accuse him of arson” Sansa laughed. 

“He is uptight. That is easy to see. I bet you his ass is clenched so tight, its waterproof--like a duck’s ass” Tormund said flippantly as they entered the shop and Sansa laughed so loud, everyone in the store turned to glare at her.

“Good Gods, who are you?” Tywin Lannister drew up short at the large ginger-haired man on the couch of Jaime and Sansa’s apartment. 

“He’s my new boyfriend” Sansa appeared around the corner to the kitchen. “I had Jaime murdered just this morning” she smirked. "Good luck finding the body!"

“Oh lovely” Tywin chuckled. “I hope it was quick and merciful.”

“Poison often is” she raised the spatula and returned to the kitchen. 

“I’m Bran” the dark-haired man in glasses stood from the couch, offering his hand. “Sansa’s younger brother.” 

“Ah, one of the siblings” Tywin shook his hand. 

“Yeah, another Stark exile” Bran said, then motioned to the burly man at his side. “This is Tormund, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you” Tywin shook the man's hand as he too stood, the pistol on his hip becoming apparent. 

“You too” Tormund agreed, glancing to the weapon. “Jaime has me keeping an eye on Sansa.” 

“Good” Tywin acknowledged. “I am surprised Jaime isn’t home yet. He left the office a bit ago. Well, I am sure he will be here soon” he reasoned, dismissing himself from the men and crossing to the kitchen where Sansa was cooking. 

“How are you?” Sansa paused her cooking to kiss his cheek in greeting, then moved back to her pots on the stove. 

“I am well” he removed his suit jacket, draping it over the back of a kitchen chair before rolling up his sleeves. “Do you need help?” 

“Stir” she handed him the spatula and he moved to the large pot of pasta sauce as ordered. “Where’s Jaime? You said he’d left the office?” 

“He did, a short while before me” Tywin said, not wanting to worry her. “I am sure he’ll be along.” 

“I am sure” Sansa agreed, working on the other side dishes. “Have you heard from the investigator yet?” 

“Not yet” Tywin replied. “It’s only been a few days, I am sure their due diligence takes time, though they know I am very motivated to have their results in hand.” 

“You all seem so sure that is was Brienne” Sansa said softly, setting the cutting board on the countertop. Tywin noticed the deep frown etched into her features. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“What if” she took a deep breath and he could see the weight of the world on her shoulders. “What if it was my mother?”

“What?” Tywin’s body froze. 

“She wouldn’t be to happy about me being in the spotlight” she looked over at him. “The ads that Jaime put up, people in North realized that she had been lying about me being dead and that would not bode well for her enemies.” 

“Your mother is a very cruel sort of woman, isn’t she?” Tywin asked. 

“The worst sort” Sansa agreed. 

“And your father--your birth father?” 

“His head as always been firmly buried in the sand” Sansa explained. “He was never much concerned with me, not when Robb and Arya were clearly the favorites. Me vanishing from the Stark family wouldn’t be much of a big deal, but if my sudden reappearance in the world makes Cat a liar…”

“I will call around” Tywin said resolutely, stirring the pot idly. “I have connections in all areas and I can figure out if you Mother is more than just a verbal threat.” 

“She can come after me all she wants” Sansa said. “But I won’t let her hurt Jaime or Bran. I can’t.”

“Give me a few days” he assured her with a smile. “I will figure it out.” 

“Thank you, Tywin” she patted his arm as Jaime appeared. 

“You two look cozy” Jaime smirked, quickly kissing her. “Smells good in here.” 

“You’re almost late” Sansa replied. “Made it just in time for food.” 

“Had an errand to run, took longer than expected” Jaime said and Tywin wondered what Jaime was up to. 

“Errand?” Sansa asked and Jaime brushed off the question. 

“Nothing crazy” he shrugged out of his jacket. 

“Right” Sansa frowned and Tywin could tell she was just as curious as he was about this ‘errand’. “Well,” she pasted on a smile. “Get the boys, we can all eat.” 

“Sure” Jaime smiled and Tywin watched him duck out of the kitchen. 

“He’s such a shitty liar” Sansa chuckled to herself and Tywin agreed. 

“I tried to teach him better, but the apple fell far from the tree” he winked at her and she laughed in truth, both of them working to plate up dinner. 

_Earlier that evening... _

_ Jaime knocked on the door and waited, rather impatiently as the occupant unlocked and opened the door. Hells, he’d already been in the car at the curb for fifteen minutes, psyching himself up for the coming conversation. “Hi” he said with a smile._

_ “Is something wrong?” Yohn asked with a frown, looking behind Jaime for any sign of Sansa. _

_ “No, I just wanted to speak with you” Jaime said nervously and Yohn responded with a chuckle. “Without Sansa.” _

_ “Should have known this was coming” Sansa’s father smiled and opened the door wide, ushering him inside._

_ “I guess it's not too much of a surprise” Jaime admitted, crossing into the living room that he had only briefly been in before. _

_ “If you’d have made me wait much longer, I would have asked your intentions with my girl” Yohn said as they sank to the couches facing each other across the coffee table. _

_ “I am sure that my intentions are fairly clear, I have made no secret of them.” _

_ “Once you pulled your head out of your ass, yes” Yohn agreed. “I would hate for Sansa to live in sin with you forever” he smirked. _

_ “Fair enough” Jaime laughed, nervously wringing his hands. He could handle million dollar marketing pitches, but in the here and now, he was hard-pressed to find the words to ask his girlfriend's father for permission to marry her._

_ “You have a ring?” _

_ “I was thinking of using my mother’s” Jaime said, looking to Yohn’s serious expression. “But I am not sure; it was big, gold and a bit over the top, doesn’t seem to be Sansa’s style.”_

_ “No, it wouldn’t be” Yohn agreed. “She’s always been a more understated, white gold type of girl.”_

_ “I can find her one then, whatever she wants” Jaime reasoned. “I just…” he sighed. “She’s it, my person. I think I knew it from the first dinner we shared and I don’t want to lose her. I want to start a family with her, and if you’re alright with me being the father of your grandchildren, I’d like to do that sooner rather than later.” _

_ Yohn chuckled, “Appealing to my desire for grandchildren, you’re smarter than you look, Lannister.” _

_ “What can I say, I’m desperate” Jaime admitted. _

_ “One second” Yohn stood and left the room by way of the hall, leaving Jaime to stew in his nerves, waiting in the oppressive silence of Runestone for Sansa’s father to return. It seemed like hours later that Yohn finally returned, this time sitting beside Jaime on the sofa. “This” Yohn held a small black box in his hands. “This was my mother’s wedding ring, and while its not opulent or gaudy, it is very important to both myself and Sansa.” _

_ Jaime took the box with a careful, reverent grip and opened it, surprised at how beautiful the ring was, in spite of Yohn’s description. It was a bright white gold with diamonds inlaid in the band and a large diamond solitaire surrounded but a halo of grey diamonds, “It’s beautiful.”_

_ “My parents were married for nearly seventy years before they passed away within months of each other” Yohn explained. “My mother had a love for pottery and ceramics, I remember my father trying to get her to stop wearing her ring when she worked at her pottery wheel, but she insisted that it would remain on her hand until the day she died, and it had. Sansa used to sit on the floor in front of the jewelry box and marvel at the ring and its love story.” _

_ “Then it is perfect” Jaime agreed. _

_ “It was always meant to be hers, she has an artist's soul, like my mother” Yohn nodded. “Just promise me you’ll take good care of her. Whether its protecting her from Brienne, from Catelyn or from sickness, just take care of her.” _

_ “I would do those things even without your permission” Jaime stated and Yohn smiled. _

_ “Good.” _

_ “Thank you, Yohn” Jaime extended his hand and the older man shook it. _

_ “You’re welcome” Yohn released his hand. “And so help me, Jaime Lannister, if you knock her up before you marry her, I will break both of your legs.” _

_ “Understood” Jaime swallowed nervously, never doubting the man’s sincerity for a second._

“What errand were you running?” Sansa asked as they readied for bed later that night. 

“Huh?” Jaime tried to play dumb but ended up laughing, he knew he had a shit poker face. “Nothing important.” 

“Jaime” Sansa said, giving him a knowing look. “You don’t have to lie to me, Lannister. I can tell you're hiding something.” 

“I’m not lying” he tossed his suit jacket onto the bed as he kicked off his dress shoes. He had always been a terribly nervous secret keeper. “It’s just…” 

“A secret?” he had nearly forgotten about her uncanny ability to cut through his bullshit and he should have known that he would never be able to keep this from her. In all fairness, he didn't want to. Just the idea of the ring being in his pocket made him bubbly and giggly, something that he couldn't hide and she could easily see. 

“Stark--”

“Lannister” she countered and he laughed, her fiery personality was something he truly did love about her. 

“I’m pretty transparent to you, eh?” he moved closer, rounding the bed to where she stood in only her tank top and panties. She had discarded her jeans the second they’d been tucked away in their bedroom. 

“Yeah, pretty much” she smirked as he reached her, their bodies a hairsbreadth apart. “What are you hiding, Lannister?” she asked playfully.

“Not a damn thing” he closed the distance and kissed her softly. Despite her being frustrated with him, she returned his kiss and he smiled as her lips parted and he delved deeper. He used the kiss to distract her, devouring her mouth and when she was pliant and whimpering against him, he pulled the box from his pocket and pressed it into her hand.

“What” she pulled back, eyes wide as she stared at the antique ring box. “Jaime…” 

“I should make you wait” he whispered against her temple. 

“I know this box…”

“Do you?” he smirked. 

“Jaime…”

“Sometimes, Stark, I have a reason to keep a secret” he grabbed the box from her hand before he could stop her and tucked back into his pocket. 

“Jaime---”

“Patience is a virtue” he stepped back and he could have laughed when she tracked his movement, moving closer. 

“Give it back!” she demanded. 

“Always so bossy--”

“I mean it Lannister!” she followed him around the bed and when he darted back to the left, she gave up and jumped onto the bed to reach him quicker. “Give it back” she pouted as she caught him in her arms, wrapping tightly around his torso. 

“You have to agree to the terms,” he said. 

“Fine--anything” she said quickly and with a mischievous smile burrowed her hand into his pocket. Before she could pull it free, his hand gently closed around her wrist. “Jaime?”

“Marry me, Stark” he said simply and he watched as tears filled her eyes. “That’s the terms, you have to agree to be stuck with me for the rest of forever. You and me against the world.” 

“Those are your terms?” she smiled and his hand flexed on her wrist. 

“And maybe a few little lions along the way” he smirked. 

“Done,” she replied without hesitation and he released her wrist, allowing her to pull the box free. “I used to sit and stare at this ring for hours” she whispered before she even opened the lid. “It was so terribly romantic, Yohn’s parents” she opened the lid and caught a sob in her throat. 

“It suits you” he pulled it from its resting place amongst the velvet and slid it onto her finger. 

“Oh my Gods” she sobbed, wiggling her fingers with a watery laugh, watching the solitaire gleam in the light. “This is real…”

“Very real” he scooped her into his arms and tossed her onto the bed, following her to the mattress. “You’re stuck with me now, Stark.” 

“Are you still going to call me that after we’re married?” she asked, tilting her lips up to meet his kiss. 

“You’ll have to wait and find out” he smiled, settling in the cradle of her thighs to kiss her deeply. He hoped to the Gods that Bran and his Wildling Man-Friend were heavy sleepers, because there was no way he was going to miss out on making love to his _fiance_ for the first time tonight.


	15. Part 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I don't talk to all of you before then, I hope that you all have a fantastic, safe and joy-filled 2020! Happy New Year, my dudes! Remember, you're all fucking amazing and I love you. 
> 
> I also want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for making 'Sans Serif' my #1 fic in terms of--well, everything! Thank you SO much for your support!
> 
> Also, remember as you read this that I know what I am doing*. 
> 
> *I still don't know what I am doing.

“I know you’re awake” Jaime’s soft voice whispered against her shoulder as he trailed kisses across her flesh. 

“Mmhmm” she sighed languidly, smiling as he snuggled against her back, holding her tightly to his chest. It wasn’t quite dawn yet, she could tell by the lack of light coming through the curtains in the bedroom. Good, she mused. She didn’t want to leave this cocoon of happiness just yet.

“You’re stunning first thing in the morning,” he said, his hand sliding up her stomach to cup her breasts. In this position, laying on their right sides, side by side, she could feel his lean muscle as it flexed and the hard length of his arousal against her lower back. 

“You’re biased” she smirked, rubbing her ass against his cock, smiling at the groan he let out. 

“Damned right I am” he agreed, tucking his arm against the mattress under her head. She snuggled closer and he took the invitation without pause, pausing only to tease her nipples before his fingers found her lower lips, parting her with ease. “So wet for me” he purred. 

“Could be your cum” she sighed as he circled her clit. “We weren’t exactly puritans last night.” 

“If it weren’t for the pillows, all of Lannisport would have heard you scream” he smiled against her neck, gently biting her beneath the ear. 

“Fuck” she exhaled, grinding back against him as his cock settled in between her ass cheeks. “Jaime--” she gasped as he teased her clit, her left hand coming to cover his where it rest between her thighs. 

“This” he raised their joined hands, bringing them to her lips to kiss her ring-covered finger. “Mine.” 

“Mmhmm” she mindlessly whimpered as he released her hand and returned his to her core. 

“May I take you?” he whispered, his voice was dark and gruff. 

“Please” she begged and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her bare shoulder. He gripped her inner thigh and lifted her leg to hook it back over his hips, and with a careful alignment, sank into her from behind. 

“Gods” he growled, his right arm wrapping around her chest. “So good.” 

“Please” she whimpered and he began a slow, steady rhythm of thrusts, filling and retreating as his fingers teased her clit. Her man was damned good at memorizing her body, and he knew all too well how this position was the way to make her come hardest, a way to make her absolutely scream. 

“I could fuck you for hours, Stark” he purred and reflexively she grabbed his hip, just beside his ass, to anchor herself. “All fucking day.” 

“Yes--” 

“But you won’t last that long, will you” he teased, flicking his fingers faster across her clit. His thrusts never sped, but the way he filled her, bottoming out each time, was more than enough to have her body beyond her control. “That’s my girl” he praised, licking a warm trail up her shoulder to nibble on her ear. 

“Jaime” she whined, her fingers digging into his flesh as her right hand grasped his, their fingers entwining over her heart. 

“You’re fucking soaked, aren’t you” he continued. “You love my cock.” 

“Yes” she sobbed, barely able to breathe as electricity raged through her. Jaime growled and fucked her harder, the bed shaking with his efforts and she could only hold onto his body as she lost control of her own. 

His fingers worked, skilled and as quick as lightning, until she could hear the wet sound of her body soaking his right up until her climax consumed her. Jaime’s right hand quickly covered her mouth, stifling her scream as her cunt clamped around him, her entire body seizing and shaking against him. 

“That’s it” he encouraged, his hand over her mouth as he pounded into her soaked channel over and over. “Fuck you’re so fucking wet, you’ve come all over yourself again” she could hear the smirk in her voice. “Do it again” he said as his fingers resumed their torturous pace on her clit.

She writhed and twisted in his hold, but his arm held her snug against him and she was forced to scream into his hand as her overly-sensitive clit was forced, head-long into another orgasm. 

“Fuck” he growled, the word drawn into an feral snarl as his hips pistoned a handful of timed and then he shoved deep, his own body shaking as he came deep inside of her. “Sansa” he whispered, kissing her shoulder softly as they caught their breath. “My Sansa.” 

“Mmmhmm” she sighed, her heart racing and mind unable to work. 

“I love you” he held her tightly, even as his cock softened and slipped her her folds, their spend tickling her slightly as it dripped to the sheets. 

“I love you” she sighed, her exhausted body slipping back into slumber, safe in his arms. 

“Want to see me set a world record?” Sansa whispered across the pillow at Jaime, both of them wide awake now, just minutes before his alarm would go off and drag him from their bubble.

Soon he would have to get up and shower, prepare for another day at the office without Sansa. It was worth it though, he smiled to himself. He’d get to come home to her every day for the rest of his life. Working at Casterly was a small price to pay to live his life with her. 

“What’s that?” he smiled. 

Turning away briefly, she grabbed her cell phone and snapped a photo of her ring on her left hand, “What do you think, two minutes?” 

Jaime chuckled, knowing she meant that she was about to blow up Cersei’s morning, “She’ll shove Robert off of her if she has to, thirty seconds,” he replied. 

Sansa giggled as she typed quickly, setting her phone on the sheets. She leaned forward to kiss him briefly and when they parted, her phone started vibrating against the mattress. 

“She’s calling” Sansa giggled. 

“That is a new world record” Jaime smiled. 

“I’ll let it go to voicemail” Sansa laughed and he pulled her close, enjoying a deep, languid kiss. When the need for air pulled them apart, Sansa trailed a fingertip over the bridge of his nose as her phone started vibrating a second time. 

“She’s going to murder you” Jaime whispered. 

“No, she's not” Sansa replied. “She _loves_ me” Sansa moved back and picked up the phone with a flippant “Hello?” Jaime could hear Cersei’s screaming from the other end of the phone, Sansa’s laughter echoing in the bedroom. “Breathe, bitch” Sansa said to Cersei and there was a pause before Cersei’s voice started back up, this time about dresses and shoes and Jaime shook his head. 

“Gods.” 

“Loves me” Sansa mouthed the words and he rolled away, setting about his morning routine. 

“What are you doing today?” Jaime asked once he finished brushing his teeth and Sansa appeared in the bathroom. She had managed to get off the phone with Cersei with a promise of letting Cersei help her pick out a wedding dress.

“I am going to go by Yohn’s, grab some of my things from the garage,” she explained. “Maybe I’ll bring him lunch.” 

“Oh okay” he nodded. “Take Tormund with you?” 

“Jaime--” 

“I mean it,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Please, for me?” 

“Alright” she relented, hating the pleading look in his eyes. “But once this is over, and it was just a freak accident, you owe me, Lannister.” 

“I will gladly pay any price” he agreed. 

“Good” she playfully smacked his ass as he stepped away to the closet, looking through his suits. 

While she would miss working at his side, she certainly enjoyed watching him get ready for work every morning. She loved Jaime Lannister naked, but watching him pull on a perfectly tailored suit, one piece at a time, was the best sort of foreplay. After all, she knew that she would be the one peeling it off of him later that evening. 

“Keep watching me like that, Stark, and I’ll be late to work” he chuckled and she gave a small shrug. 

“Can’t I admire my husband-to-be?”

“All you want” he kissed her as he passed by, moving to where he kept his ties. “Wife-to-be.”

“Damn right” she smacked his ass a second time before starting the shower up for her own use. The man really did have a glorious ass. Centuries ago they would have written poetry about Jaime Lannister's ass. 

A half-hour later had her showered and dressed in dark jeans and a nice lavender blouse, her hair still damp but tamed into a single plait over her shoulder. She emerged from the bedroom to find Jaime with Tormund and Bran in the kitchen, all of them laughing over coffee. 

“Morning” she smiled and then squeaked in surprise when she found herself wrapped in Tormund’s arms, victim of a very serious bear hug. “Uh..” 

“Congratulations” Bran said, smiling at his overly excited boyfriend. “Jaime told us the news.” 

“Oh” she felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, thank you.” 

“Now then, I am off to work” Jaime gave her a quick kiss as Tormund released her. “I will see you all tonight.” 

“Tonight” Sansa agreed, watching him go. Once the door was locked behind him, she turned to Tormund who was still smiling from ear to ear. “How do you feel about garage rummaging?” 

“Love it!” Tormund replied enthusiastically and Bran only shook his head with an indulgent smile. 

“I bet you do” Sansa smiled, rubbing her hands together. “Time to party.” 

“Princess” Yohn hugged her tightly as soon as they were inside Runestone. “Your boy certainly didn’t waste time” he raised her left hand, smiling down at the ring. 

“He’s terrible at keeping secrets” she smiled. “Thank you, for giving it to him.” 

“It was always meant to be yours,” he assured her, kissing her forehead. “Now, who’s the big ginger?” 

“Tormund” Bran interjected as they made their way through the house to the kitchen, both of them carrying bags of food. “He’s with me. T, this is Yohn.”

“Nice to meet you” Tormund shook Yohn’s hand as soon as he set his bags on the table.

“You as well, welcome to Runestone” Yohn replied, and Sansa could tell he was surprised at this revelation but hid it well. “Make yourselves at home, you’re all family now.” 

“After lunch, I am going to dig through the garage” Sansa explained. “There are a few bits and pieces I would like to dig out and take to the apartment.”

“Sounds like an adventure” Yohn chuckled. “There might even be a few boxes of clothes that you left behind as well.”

“Even better” Sansa beamed, doling out the burgers and fries they’d grabbed from her favorite burger joint on the way over. 

“I haven’t had a bacon cheeseburger in years” Yohn noted as he opened his. 

“Don't get used to it! This is just a special treat and a special thank you” Sansa replied. “It isn’t good for your cholesterol.” 

“Bah” Yohn waved her off with a smile, digging in to his lunch. 

Sansa unwrapped her own burger and savoured every bite. It had been a long time since she’d had a burger too, and she’d almost forgotten how much she loved them. Well, she loved food in general, so it was hard to remember it all. 

She was half-way through her burger when she caught Tormund stealing her fries and she smacked his hand in protest. “Eat your own!” 

“I did” he chuckled.

“Then eat Bran’s, these are mine” she laughed, scooting her food away from him. 

“Children” Yohn smirked. “Behave or I’ll put you in separate corners.” 

“He started it” Sansa pointed to Tormund who only laughed. 

Bran gave a sigh and looked to Yohn, “Can I stay in the house with you? I don’t think I’ll survive the garage with these two.”

Yohn laughed, clapping Bran on the shoulder, “Absolutely.” 

“Hey!” Sansa protested. 

“We’re not that bad!” Tormund added with a smirk. “Well, maybe she is.”

“Hey!”

“What do you think?” Tormund asked, pulling on a pink knit cap with a puff ball on the top, one she had worn in high school. 

“Pink is definitely your color” Sansa giggled, moving a box of tools aside to reveal another cardboard box simply labeled ‘clothes’. Kneeling beside it, she used a small pocket knife to open it.

“I think so too” Tormund agreed, leaving the hat on as he resumed ‘helping’ her. “Did you paint this?” he asked, bringing a canvas out from where it was hidden between two stacks of boxes. 

Sansa leaned back to see what he was talking about, “Oh” she pushed to her feet. “I did, wow I thought…” she frowned. “I didn’t know this was here” she ran her fingers over the edge of the canvas. 

The painting was ‘old’ now by her painting standards, she had learned a lot since then, had grown a lot since then. Lifting it, she set it on top of the tool box, examining the depiction of Winterfell.

“Does it still look the same?” Sansa asked Tormund, her voice smaller than she wanted it to be.

“It’s grey now” Tormund replied, standing beside her. “And I think Bran said something about her remodeling the kitchen, but I couldn’t say. I have never been inside.” 

“It’s hell” she whispered and Tormund’s arm settled over her shoulders, a small gesture of comfort. “That house is awful and I thought if I painted it, I would get it out of my system and move on.” 

“And did you?” 

“I can never escape memories of Cat Stark” she scoffed. “As much as I wish I could, some things just aren’t possible.” 

“She isn’t worth dwelling on” Tormund began. “She’s cold, unfeeling beyond what she can manipulate. Not worth worrying over. I wouldn't spare her a thought aside from loathing her for hurting my Wolf King. He didn't deserve that vitriol she spewed at him.”

“I agree” she gave a small smile, turning to look at the goofy man beside her, his bright red beard clashing with the pink puff-ball hat. “You know, Bran better marry you.”

Tormund barked out a laugh, “I’m not too old for your baby brother then?” 

“Jaime is a few years older than me,” she shrugged. “You’re a good man. Almost worthy of my baby brother” she teased. 

“Almost” he scoffed. “_Almost_ she says.” 

“Almost” she repeated, then pointed to the painting. “We can just toss that. Burn it, whatever.”

“As you wish” he grabbed the canvas and tossed it out the open garage door with a smirk, clearly amused by tossing it onto the pavement and Sansa returned to the clothes box. 

“Delivery for you, Mr. Lannister” Pod scurried into his office with a large cardboard box. “Came by courier.”

“Oh” Jaime stood and took the box, setting it on the conference table in his office. Free of his burden, Pod retreated from the office and back to work. The box wasn’t sealed, only had a little cartoon lion drawn on the top with the word ‘Congrats!’ and he chuckled as he opened the flaps. “Cersei.” 

Carefully he pulled the green frog phone free and examined it with a smile. This phone had saved his life, though not in the literal sense. Without it, he would have been miserable without Sansa at his side for the rest of his life. 

The ads also had the unintentional effect of putting Casterly on the radar of a lot of new clients, powerful and influential, and they had also brought Bran to Lannisport. He’d say that they were a success on many fronts. His best and favorite pieces in his portfolio.

He carried the phone to his desk and moved a few things aside to make space for it, displaying it prominently on the corner. He wanted everyone passing by to be able to see it, he didn’t care if that made him a sentimental goof. This phone had brought his wife to him, brought the woman he loved back into his life and it deserved respect.

Grabbing his cell phone he snapped a picture and sent it to Sansa, knowing that she would get a kick out of it as well. 

That bitch, stupid selfish bitch! She cursed her over and over as her hand’s flexed on the steering wheel of the rental car. Even from here, she could see the ridiculous ring on her left hand and it only served to make her blood boil. 

She’d already tried once, but apparently more direct methods were required to rid the world of this Stark problem. 

She’d been watching, waiting and biding her time for the right moment, a thing made difficult by the addition of the ridiculous lumber-jack ginger that seemed to shadow her every movement now. 

Now, thought, now was the time. Her time to shine. She could fix the problem and then all would be right in the world. All would be perfect and as it should be. 

Shifting the car into gear she waited, watching as Sansa made her way down the path of the ancient house and onto the sidewalk. Sansa stopped, looking to her phone with a smile and the ring on her hand glinted in the sunlight, mocking her. 

Letting her foot off the brake, she set the wheels in motion, literally and figuratively, taking control of her own destiny. 

Sansa’s phone chimed in her pocket just as they were loading the last few boxes into Bran’s Jeep. Ironically enough, his Cherokee had the most storage space, which certainly came in handy today. 

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she saw it was a message from Jaime and quickly unlocked her phone. 

“Oh!” she laughed hysterically as the picture message loaded, showing the glorious frog phone in a place of honor on the corner of his desk beside his pen cup. “Perfect” she laughed, quickly typing a reply and sending it to him. He really was such a wonderful goof. Her lovable goof, she looked to her wedding ring with a smile.

“Shit, Sansa!!” she heard Tormund’s yelling but when she looked up, it was too late. 

A flash of pain, a screech of tires, a crash and then...darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry...


	16. Part 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A NEW Picset can be viewed [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189983117246/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/) as a thank you for all of your incredible support!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see if we can kick this baby into 10k hits before the end of the decade! I didn't want to make you wait TOO long on this cliffhanger, though we're entering a Stage 5 Tissue warning zone. 
> 
> I am so absolutely, positively overwhelmed by your love and support of this fic. For those of you who don't know, I started posting stories in late June of this year after a large amount of upheaval in my life. Long story short, everything was shit and I was completely lost. I never expected people to read any of my drabble, let alone follow me on tumblr and share such positivity with me. I am humbled and in awe of all of you. Thank you for your support in 2019 and I hope that I can keep you entertained in 2020 as well. Have a safe and happy new year's celebration, and may 2020 be filled with joy and love.

“Where is she?” Jaime demanded the moment the hospital doors opened and he spotted Yohn, Bran and Tormund in the waiting area. 

He’d left work the second he’d gotten the call from Yohn, the older man’s voice frantic and filled with terror.

_ “Sansa’s been hit”_ Yohn had explained, his voice trembling as he told Jaime that a car had lept the curb and struck her. Panic and sheer terror had consumed Jaime and he was running before he even registered that he was moving. He had to reach her. He had to get to her. He had to hold her, assure himself that she was alive--that she was _alive_. 

“Jaime---” Yohn stood to intercept him. 

“No” Jaime shoved the man’s hands away. “Where the fuck is she?” He noticed then that Tormund and Bran were both pale, ashen and sitting on the vinyl couches as if they had witnessed The Stranger itself, and he feared the worst. 

“Jaime, stop--you have to stop” Yohn tried to grab him again and the panic bubbled over in his chest. 

“Where. The fuck. Is she!”

“Jaime---”

“Where is she!?!” he yelled, other patrons and staff turning to stare at him. “Where is Sansa?! I need to see her! I need to see her now!”

"She's alive! Stop it, she's alive!" Yohn’s arms wrapped around him, holding his own arms to his sides, “She’s unresponsive---” Jaime tried to break free. “Stop it!” Yohn scolded, his ‘Dad voice’ out in full force. “Stop it, now!”

“I need to see her” he pleaded, tears threatening to break free. “Please, Yohn, please just let me see her---” 

“She was unresponsive, they had to take her into surgery and they won’t let any of us see her yet” Yohn explained, holding Jaime tight. "We're just waiting on the surgeons report."

“Please” Jaime pleaded, his body going limp against Yohn’s large frame. “Please…”

“They’re working as quickly as they can” Yohn assured him, holding him up when Jaime’s legs went out and his strength left him. “They’re doing all that they can.” 

“Please” he whispered, swallowing a broken sob. 

“Shh, she’ll be alright” Yohn said and Jaime wasn’t sure if Yohn was trying to assure just him or them both with his soft words. “She’s strong, Gods is she strong.” 

“Please” he felt broken, the only word able to escape his lips the broken plea. 

“Shh” Yohn whispered, holding him tightly. 

“I can’t lose her.”

“None of us can” Yohn replied. “She’s our heart, our sun. I know, Jaime, Gods do I know.” 

He couldn’t swallow his emotions any longer and he broke, falling apart in Yohn’s arms, uncaring of who could see. He felt like he was floating and then he realized that Yohn was helping him to the couches, his body moving to settle on the cushions without knowing it and then he was crying against the man’s chest. 

He was scared, so fucking scared that he could barely breathe. He prayed, over and over and over, desperate for any God who would listen, to hear his plea and to protect and keep Sansa. He couldn’t lose her---he wouldn’t…

“Shh” Yohn soothed him and then the voice of his father broke into his haze. 

“My daughter's here, where is she?” Tywin’s cold-as-ice voice demanded as cool air from the automatic doors brushed over them. The Great Lion had arrived and Gods help anyone who stood in his path. 

“Tywin” Yohn said and Jaime lifted his head. “She’s unresponsive, they had to take her to surgery. She hit her head rather hard against the sidewalk and she was unconscious---”

“Well, I happen to donate a substantial sum of money to this hospital and if they appreciate their funding, they better get their asses into gear” Tywin was glaring at the doctors and nurses lingering around him, all them scattering from view like cockroaches from the harsh shine of the light. 

“I didn’t see the car” Tormund said softly and Yohn shook his head. “Not until it was too late.”

“None of us did” Yohn reasoned. 

“It wasn’t an accident” Bran said, his eyes vacant as he leaned on Tormund for strength. “It couldn’t have been. Not the way the cars were parallel parked. I was closer to the intersection than San.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, the scent of blood in the water, “Did you see the driver? Who was it?” 

Bran shook his head, “Some blonde woman, I’d never---”

“Blonde?” Jaime sniffed back more snot that he cared to acknowledge and wiped his eyes. “How blonde?” 

“Yellow blonde? Shit haircut, sort of like mine” Bran shrugged. “I don’t know--” 

“Was she tall?” 

“Gods she was a big woman” Tormund scoffed and Jaime felt his blood run cold. He looked to his father’s cold gaze and felt his stomach sink. 

They couldn’t have known, not Yohn, Bran and Tormund who had never seen Brienne before. He had asked Tormund to keep Sansa safe, unsure where the threat could have come from, but wanting to protect her all the same. It seemed the threat was someone he’d made the great mistake of trusting. This was his fault...Gods, he covered his face with his hands, willing himself not to break down in front of his Father. He wanted to cry, scream, punch a wall, something to settle his mind.

“The police came with the paramedics” Yohn explained. “They took her. She was rambling—manic, really. I think she planned on driving away but her front tires went flat when they came up against the curb. Tormund grabbed her as she tried to run.”

“I see” Tywin looked to Yohn and the two men shared an unspoken conversation. “Who’s the police chief?” 

“Thoros Myr” Yohn replied. “An old friend of mine from high school.” 

“Is he now?” Tywin smirked. 

_ “Jaime?” Sansa walked down the stone hallways, her hand running along the rough brick, bouncing and dragging against their rough texture. Every time she reached a room in this seemingly endless castle, she looked for Jaime, but she couldn’t find him and she was growing more and more terrified by the second._

_ “Jaime!?” she screamed as loud as she could as she entered the great room, a large metal throne made of swords sitting on the dias, it's cold appearance not a comfort in the least. _

_ She couldn’t find him, only her voice echoed back at her in the great room, the stained glass seeming to threaten her as it loomed above. A tremor passed through her and she felt young and lost. _

_ “Jaime?" she paused. "Daddy?” she moved to the middle of the throne room searching for Yohn, looking at the red and gold banners, looking at everything for any sign of life. “Daddy?” she whimpered. _

_ Footsteps sounded to her left and she looked to the source as a tall, golden form appeared._

_ “Jaime” she gasped in relief and rushed towards him. _

_ “Stop” he raised a right hand made of gold and she drew up short. This was Jaime, it had to be---but it wasn’t **her** Jaime. “Who are you?” he sneered looking her over and it was then that she realized she wore only a tattered grown in soft dove grey, her hair loose and tangled passed her waist. Longer than it had ever been before._

_ “Jaime?” she pleaded._

_ “You dare to address me so informally?” he countered and she felt strong hands close around her upper arms. She turned to look up into the impassive face of Brienne, strangely clad in black metal armor, a sword on her hip._

_ “No, please, you have to help me!” she begged as the men hauled her backwards, further away from the armor clad figure of her Jaime. “I don’t know where I am!! Please!!! Jaime---”_

“She’s seizing” the head surgeon said coolly, stepping back and raising his hands into the air as the slender woman on the gurney thrashed and shook. “Hold her” he said and the nurses stepped in, gently pinning her to the mattress pad, one of them whispering words of reassurance into the patient’s ear. 

“Time it” the assisting surgeon said and they collectively turned to face the clock. “Took longer than expected.”

“The fracture in her skull is bad, you try getting through that without a seizure or two” the head surgeon stated in his usual bored, gruff tone. 

“Fracture or not” his assistant stretched his neck. “Once we get this abdomen wall sewn up, she’s got a long road ahead.”

“We can only do so much” he looked to his partner, both of them having worked in trauma surgery for many years together, and they knew that all they could do was wait. 

_ “See” Cersei lay the beautiful beaded gown across the velvet chair. “Aren’t you glad you let me supervise your wedding dress decisions?” _

_Sansa laughed softly, “Of course,” she assured her soon-to-be sister-in-law. Cersei had been there every step of the way as Sansa had planned the small wedding that was about to take place. Her and Jaime had taken Tywin up on his offer to marry at Casterly Rock, his palatial estate along the rocky shores. It was perfect, truly, and she couldn’t wait to finally be Jaime’s wife. _

_ “I would never steer you wrong” Cersei smirked. “It would make me look bad if your wedding dress was horrific” she winked. _

_ “And we would never dare make Cersei Lannister look bad.” _

_ “Damn right” she laughed, smoothing a hand over the lace trim. “Ready?” _

_ “Ready” Sansa stood, smoothing her hands over her delicate pale pink lingerie. Cersei lifted the gown and held the shoulders as Sansa carefully stepped into it, sliding the soft fabric up and into place. _

_ “Perfect” Cersei whispered as she zipped the back. “Absolutely perfect.” _

_ Sansa turned to the floor length mirror, staring at her reflection for several seconds as she battled the urge to cry. She had never pictured herself a blushing bride, but with her impeccable makeup and perfect hairstyle, she looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of a magazine. _

_ “It’s perfect” she turned back to Cersei but her heart stopped at the tall, auburn-haired woman sitting in the velvet chair that had previously held her wedding gown. “No…”_

_ “Who do you think you are?” the cold, clipped voice asked, a single brow raised in snobbish challenge. She’d had nightmares about that voice, lived in fear of that eyebrow and she wanted nothing more than to run. But when she tried to lift her feet, she was glued to the floor. NO!_

_ “I’m Sansa Lannister--”_

_ “No you’re not. Not yet” Catelyn stood, looking as polished as ever in her midnight blue pantsuit. _

_ “I **am** Sansa Lannister, this is my home and you can’t frighten me.”_

_ “Oh, I think I can. And I do” she casually approached, raising a hand to brush an errant hair behind Sansa’s ear. Sansa felt her stomach spin at the feeling of Catelyn’s touch and turned away from her only to have cold fingers grip her jaw painfully tight and force her to meet the Tully blue eyes so like her own. “Look at me, you ungrateful little bitch--” _

_ “Fuck you” Sansa spat and the grip on her jaw tightened, forcing an involuntary whimper from her lips._

_ “I had such high hopes for you” Catelyn said softly, her voice a stark contrast to her tight grip on Sansa’s face. “Such aspirations and dreams. You’re more beautiful than I could have ever been, even more gifted. And how do you repay me? You shun my kindness, you spread your legs for your teacher, for a man fucking his interns--”_

_ “You can’t frighten me” Sansa repeated, pouring venom into her own voice. _

_ “I should” Catelyn smiled sadly and then Sansa felt a burning pain rip through her abdomen. Choking, she stumbled back and looked down to the pewter handle of the dagger that was now buried beneath her ribs._

_ “Oh” she tasted the metallic blood in her mouth as the red stain spread across her pristine dress like disease. Her strength began to leave her and she managed to lean against the floor length mirror, sliding down the cool surface until she was sitting on the hardwood floor at Catelyn’s feet._

_ “You’ll never be free of me” Catelyn warned, glaring down at her. _

_ “Jaime” Sansa whispered, every breath riddled with pain and weakness._

_ “Everytime you look in the mirror, I’ll be waiting” Catelyn warned as Sansa’s vision failed and all she could hear was the distant sounds of the string quartet as they practised in the courtyard. _

“We’ve done all we can” the head surgeon said, removing his nitrile gloves and facemask. “It’s up to her and the Gods now.” 

“Take her to recovery,” his assistant said to the nurses and attending orderlies.”And if she has any more seizures, notify the doctor on duty immediately. Her brain is fighting, which is good but she can’t afford to tear those internal stitches.”

“Yes, Doctor” the orderly in charge gave a nod and they began their work, readying machines and the bed for transport. 

“Think she’ll live?” his assistant asked and the surgeon turned to face him. 

“I don’t know” he ran a hand over his scarred face, pausing at his dark, well-trimmed beard. “Whoever did this wanted her dead, that’s for sure.” 

“Word is she is engaged to a Lannister” he assistant said, tossing his gloves into the bin. 

“Fuck” he chuckled. “Then they're as good as dead themselves. Buggering idiots.”

“Too bad, she was pretty.”

“Still is” the surgeon shook his head and removed his head covering. “Like a delicate little bird.” 

_ “Sansa” she turned to see Jaime as he entered the room, carrying the small form of their daughter in his arms. “There you are.”_

_ “Here I am” she smiled, crossing to his side. “I was lost in a daydream.”_

_ “You’re back now, that’s all that matters” he kissed her softly as little Jo stirred in his embrace. “She always seems to know when you’re near” he mused, looking to the strawberry blonde hair on the head of their daughter. _

_ “Us Lannister women have to stick together” Sansa smiled as she lifted the baby into her arms. “Except for Aunt Cersei, she’s just crazy” she said to Jo who only yawned in response._

_ “She is the most beautiful girl in the world” Jaime said with a smile. “She takes after her mother.” _

_ “Flattery, Lannister, will get you everywhere” she kissed him with a smile. _

_ “Damn right, Lannister” he countered, pulling her and their daughter into his arms. _

“I remember” Jaime said into the darkness of the hospital room. He sat beside her bed, as he had for the past several hours, holding her unmoving and far-too-cold hand in his own. “When I was seven, Cersei decided that I was going to be her sister” he laughed himself. “She made this wig out of yellow fabric and she tried to put me in one of her dresses. The look on my father’s face when he walked in” he laughed to himself. “I thought he’d gone apoplectic.”

Silence met his story, not that he expected a response, and the weight on his shoulders had him hunching over in his chair. Two days. Two days they had kept Sansa in a medically induced coma, allowing the swelling in her brain to recede and the stitches in her abdomen wall. 

The car had been going fast enough to hop the curb and settle on top of her, the police had explained when they arrived at the hospital for follow-up injuries. She’d been knocked out of her shoes, hands battered, her right lower leg broken, her skull fractured from impact on the cement and her body twisting so violently she had to have emergency surgery. 

He’d nearly fainted when the scarred surgeon had told him she had several small seizures on the operating table, the idea sounded so horrific to him. The surgeon, however, said when there is a traumatic brain injury of this magnitude, it was not uncommon, his gruff bedside manner oddly comforting. He didn’t seem like a man to waste words on lies. 

So, for two days he had been here at her side. When the time came that he was forced to go eat, shower or attempt to sleep, Yohn, Bran or Tywin sat with her, all of them promising Jaime that she would never be alone, even while she slept.

When the silence of the room had become overwhelming, he began to talk, telling her stories, news from work and anything else that he could think of to occupy his mind. He talked until his voice was hoarse and his hand was sweaty from where it held tightly to hers. Then he talked some more. 

At the Lannisport Metro Police Station, Brienne Tarth sat in a cell, rattling nonsense and yelling at the guards, demanding to see Jaime. His Father believing that it was all part of her plan to plead emotional distress or temporary insanity. It made Jaime sick, absolutely sick to his stomach that Brienne had done this, had taken things so far that she had tried to take Sansa’s life. 

Not just once, his mind reminded him that they were still waiting for the fire investigation team to complete their work at Sansa’s apartment. It seemed silly now, he scoffed, the answer almost seemed too obvious.

Tywin had promised them all, as they gathered in Sansa’s room the night of the accident, that Brienne would pay for this one way or another. He had promised once to ruin Brienne if she hurt Sansa, and Jaime could tell that he meant to live up to that. For that he was grateful. 

Pulling the chain from his sweater, he smiled down at Sansa’s engagement ring. The hospital had taken it off of her when she arrived in order to bandage her hands, and when Yohn entrusted it back into Jaime’s care, he put it on a chain and wore it over his heart. Until it was on her finger again, that is where it would stay. 

Footsteps sounded in the hall and Jaime looked up to see his Father arrive, carrying a large cup of coffee in each hand. 

“Thank you” Jaime took one gratefully as Tywin settled into the chair beside him. 

“Tyrion should be here soon, too” Tywin said. 

“Alright” Jaime nodded, drinking deeply from his cup. 

“You know” Tywin said softly. “When I first met your mother, she wanted nothing to do with me” he chuckled, shaking his head. “A ‘snooty Lannister’ she called me, and I am fairly certain that she only agreed to have dinner with me to get rid of me.” 

“Really?” Jaime smiled, imagining his Mother trying to tell the Great Lion off. 

“She was quite determined not to love me, but I was even more determined to make her fall in love with me” Tywin continued. “Losing her was the hardest thing I have ever experienced. I would have done anything, paid any cost, completed any task, just to keep her. I was so angry, I still am angry, but I would never for a second regret loving her.”

“I am not going to lose Sansa” Jaime said resolutely. 

“No, you won’t” Tywin agreed. “I am passed the age of letting people fuck with the Lannisters, Jaime. This will come with consequences, and I promise you I will see them through.”

“I’ll help” Jaime said, looking from Sansa to his Father. “I’ll do anything I have to, for her.” 

“Good” Tywin sipped his drink. “She’s made you a better man.”

“I needed it” Jaime admitted with a small smirk. “Gods know it.” 

“Perhaps a bit of maturing” Tywin teased. “You’re too much like me for your own good sometimes.” 

“Sometimes” Jaime agreed as footsteps sounded in the hall and he realized that they were too heavy to be Tyrion’s. Frowning, he turned to see an unfamiliar figure fill the doorway. It wasn’t until his brain pulled forward the memory of an old family photograph that he slowly stood to face the newcomer. 

The man’s eyes went to Sansa’s unmoving form and Jaime rounded the bed, blocking her from view. At this action, he felt his Father follow his lead, the soft sound of fabric rustling as Tywin also stood.

“Please--” the man said, his eyes pleading. 

“You don’t belong here,” Jaime growled a warning. “Mr. Stark.”


	17. Part 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all amazing, did you know that!? Your comments and feedback on this story are just---ugh, giving me life!!!
> 
> Italics are, as before, Sansa's dreams/flashbacks.

_ Sansa smiled to herself, looking at the watercolors on the floor and the small paper she had been working on. It wasn’t a Van Gogh, but still she had managed to capture the soft light and emotion of sunset at Runestone. _

_ “It’s beautiful, Princess” Yohn’s voice praised and she looked up from where she was sitting to see her best friend and surrogate father smiling down at her._

_ “They’re very tricky” she wrinkled her nose, holding up the thick paper for his examination._

_ “That’s why you went to camp, to discover all of their hidden mysteries” he smiled. _

_ “I know” she looked back to her watercolor depiction, setting it down on the hardwood flooring. “Do I have to go back to Winterfell?” _

_ “I am fairly certain that if I do not send you back, your Mother will have me arrested for kidnapping” Yohn chuckled but Sansa didn’t feel in the slightest like laughing. _

_ “What if I just ran away? Never went back?” she asked softly, turning to him and crawling into his lap. She may be a young woman of ten and three now, but here, with Yohn, was the only place she felt safe._

_ “In a few years, when you’re a legal adult, you can run anywhere in the world and she can’t stop you.”_

_ “Promise?” she rested her head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her. _

_ “Promise.” _

“I know that I have no right to be here” Eddard ‘Ned’ Stark said, raising his hand in supplication. It was then that Jaime noticed the man carried a thick manilla envelope in one of his hands, an odd thing to be carrying to see your child in the hospital. “But I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.” 

“Definite ‘important’?” Jaime asked.

“I was going to Runestone, I left Winterfell yesterday before I heard about the accident on the radio” Ned explained. “I would have remained in the North, but there is something very important that I need to discuss with all of you. It will shed a bit of light on--well, a lot of things” his shoulders slumped in defeat but Jaime still didn’t trust the man. Not a damned chance did he trust the man that had always had a problem with Sansa’s existence. A man who had let his wife run roughshod over their children and destroy their lives. No, he had no welcome committee here.

Jaime watched as Yohn appeared behind Ned, the older man looking just as skeptical and concerned as Jaime, but there was something in his eyes that told Jaime there was more at play here and Sansa’s birth father showing up. 

“And why should we bother listening to you?” Tywin asked as he moved closer. “Sansa has all the fathers that she needs already, you’re just the man who abandoned her. We're the men who love her.” 

Ned’s eyes briefly flashed with hurt before he schooled his features, “My intention was never to hurt her, I promise you that.” 

“Your promise means nothing” Tywin scoffed and Jaime was reminded at how intimidating his father could be. “Your being here doesn’t mean that your pernicious wife will make an appearance, does it?”

“I really think that you should listen to what I have to tell you” Ned countered. 

“If you waste my time, Mr. Stark” Tywin said plainly. “I’ll have you ruined so quickly your head will spin.”

“That is fair, but I promise this won't be a waste of your time” Ned agreed as jovial whistling sounded in the hall. Jaime knew that tune and was relieved to see the small form of his younger brother appear a few seconds later. 

“Looks like I am late to the party” Tyrion noted, looking at the very tense stare-off currently happening in the hall. 

“Tyrion” Jaime said with a forced smile. “Perfect timing.” 

“Well I am rather perfect, aren’t I?” Tyrion looked up at Ned, clearly curious as to who this man was, but chose not to comment. Tyrion held a small bag of food and a thick novel under his arm, making his way to the chair beside Sansa’s bed that Jaime had just vacated. 

“Will you sit with her?” Jaime asked. 

“Of course” Tyrion raised the book as he climbed into the chair. “I have brought her the finest of Emily Bronte’s poetry. I will read to her until she’s so sick of my voice she wakes simply to smother me to death.” 

“Thank you” Jaime said with a crooked smile before turning back to Yohn. “Yohn?” he prompted, following the man who was, in all ways but genetics, Sansa’s father. 

“There’s a diner across the street” Yohn replied. “We can talk there, away from Sansa and this place.” 

“Lead the way” Tywin agreed and the group silently made their way back to the elevators, not one of them brave enough to initiate hollow small talk. 

_ “Please” Sansa sobbed, holding her hand to her chest. “It hurts.” _

_ “Beauty is pain” her Mother scolded, pulling her hand from her chest and shoving the fountain pen into her grip. “Perfection is pain. Now **write**” she ordered and Sansa sobbed softly. _

_ “It hurts.” _

_ “I don’t care if it hurts” her Mother moved behind her, pulling her head up by her hair before taking her hand in her own, moving it back to the paper. “You’re a **Stark**, Sansa, and with that comes standards of behavior, education and etiquette. You can never, ever, dishonor the family name. Honor is all you have. Now **write**." _

_ Sansa sniffled and moved her hand as smoothly as she could force it to. Her mother had tasked her with writing her name, ‘Miss. Sansa Stark’, a thousand times and had kept her at the family’s dinner table long after everyone else had gone to bed to accomplish this task. Her hand shook and the lines were jerky, every flex causing a twinge of pain to shoot up her arm as she tried to write._

_ “Sansa!” Catelyn's hand came down on the wooden table with a 'bam' and Sansa jumped. _

_ “It hurts, please” she cried anew, dropping the pen and pulling her hand from the papers to cradle it against her chest. _

_ “Listen to me, you--”_

_ “Catelyn” the voice of her Father cut into her Mother’s words and she felt her move away, standing to face him. Sansa lowered her eyes, doing her best to silence her cries and tune out the two people softly arguing. _

_ All they did was argue; quietly, loudly, secretly, in front of her and her siblings. Argue, argue argue. _

_ “Sansa” her Father said and she forced herself to look up at him. “Go to bed” he said and as soon as the words left his mouth, she was stumbling from the chair, running from the kitchen and sprinting away from her Mother. From him. From them both. _

Yohn watched as Ned settled into the booth across from him at the all-night diner across the street from the hospital. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to punch the man in the throat and then stand over his gagging, choking body to remind him of the shit treatment he had given Sansa her entire childhood. 

Or perhaps, he watched a waitress walk by with a carafe of scalding hot coffee. He could break the glass over his head and then watch as he writhed in pain. Surely third degree burns were recompense enough for the terror that Sansa experienced as a child? 

“I know” Ned began. “That none of you have ever had wish to meet me, or see me again” he looked at each of them. “I haven’t been the best of parents--” Yohn scoffed loudly, shaking his head and Ned frowned. “I know I have no right to call Sansa my daughter, but things have come to my attention and I cannot, in good conscious, ignore them any longer.”

“Ignore them” Yohn countered. “Like you’ve ignored Catelyn’s behavior all these years?” 

“Catelyn is beyond even my control now” Ned replied sadly. 

“What can I get you gentlemen?” the waitress appeared and Yohn was glad when Jaime pulled his anger together long enough to reply. 

“Coffee, regular not decaf, for all of us, please, thank you” Jaime said and the young woman gave him a flirtatious smile before she got to work, one that Yohn was quite pleased to see was flatly ignored. _Good man_.

“I suppose I should start at the beginning” Ned reasoned once the waitress had gone. “Back when Sansa was conceived--”

“Spare me” Tywin rolled his eyes. 

“No” Ned shook his head. “It’s important, you see, because when Catelyn told me she was pregnant with Sansa, it came only two weeks after I learned that my mistress was also pregnant.”

_ “Hi” Sansa looked to her right to see the owner of the voice, a young man with dark curly hair, thin lips and a small smile. _

_ “Hi” Sansa smiled as he sat beside her. While others were screaming and playing on the jungle-gym, she had chosen to sit on the grass beside it with the thick pad of paper that Yohn had given her that summer. She was determined to draw Runestone from memory. She had to, it was the only way she could see it again before summer came. _

_ “My name’s Jon” he said, scooting closer. “What’s yours?”_

_ “Sansa” she replied, working hard on her sketch. _

_ “Your hair is pretty” he said and Sansa looked up at him. He was shorter than the other kids their age and his eyes looked dark and unsure. She wondered why he had chosen to come speak with her, of all people._

_ “Thank you” she said, tilting her head to examine him closer. He looked so familiar, so..._

_ “Sansa Minisa Stark!” her Mother’s shrill voice cut into their conversation and Sansa quickly closed her sketchbook, hiding it in her backpack._

_ “She doesn’t like you drawing huh?” the boy--Jon, said. _

_ “She doesn’t like me at all” Sansa whispered as her Mother reached them, her hand closing around Sansa’s upper arm and hauling her to her feet._

_ “Car. Now” Catelyn demanded and Sansa nodded quickly, scurrying away from Jon with a sad smile. She could tell that her mother was talking to Jon, but she couldn’t hear or make out what was being said. It didn’t matter, she told herself. Her mother would never allow her to have friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into the SUV and ignored Robb’s judgemental stare. She looked out the window to the forest, wishing that she could escape and before she knew it, her Mother was behind the wheel and they were pulling away from the Junior High parking lot._

_ Sansa turned back to see Jon standing on the grass, his jaw clenched and fists balled at his sides. She smiled sadly, her Mother seemed to have that effect on most people, it seemed. _

_ They pulled onto the road and headed 'home'. Sansa praying for escape with every mile that brought them closer to Winterfell. _

_ She never saw Jon again. _

“Mistress?” Yohn choked on the word and Ned looked as pale as a ghost. 

Jaime looked at Sansa’s birth father, not allowing himself to blindly believe that everything this man spoke as truth. He had let Sansa suffer, and for that he would keep him at arm’s length. A very long arm. With barbed wire at the end.

“I can’t justify my behavior beyond explaining that my marriage is not--has not been a happy one” Ned said, setting the manilla envelope on the table. "Catelyn has always been a difficult woman, her demands and expectations high and her necessity for perfection nearly overwhelming.”

“So you had an affair” Tywin stated. “And have a bastard.”

“I did and I do” Ned opened the envelope and pulled a photo from inside, the face of a man with dark, curly hair and deep brown eyes staring back at them. He was the very image of a young Eddard Stark. “His name is Jon and he was born three days before Sansa.”

“Good Gods, Ned” Yohn shook his head. “I never realized what a cunt you were, not until now.” 

Ned frowned deeply but continued, “Jon didn’t know I was his father until he was nearly ten and two, and once he knew, he was desperate to be a Stark.” 

“And to have the Stark money, I have no doubt” Yohn reasoned. 

“It was when Jon was five that Catelyn learned about his existence” Ned said. “She was, as expected, furious. She threatened to divorce me, to take Robb, Sansa and Arya and everything else that she could. I have never seen her that upset.”

“Couldn’t let her take Arya though, could you” Yohn glared and Jaime felt his stomach drop, remembering all-too-well that Sansa had said that Arya was the favorite.

Ned swallowed thickly as the waitress returned, setting cups on the table and filling them with a smile. She looked back to him but Jaime didn’t acknowledge her, wouldn’t return her flirtatious smile. He had Sansa to worry about, Sansa to love. 

“I’ve always suspected that the reason Catelyn was so hard on Sansa was because she felt that Sansa needed to be better--smarter, prettier, more educated, more talented than her bastard near-twin brother. She was awful to Sansa---”

“You have no need to remind me” Yohn interjected with a glare. “I was the one who picked up the pieces of that girl each and every time Catelyn smashed her asunder. So fuck her and fuck you.” 

“Catelyn was--is a nightmare” Ned pulled another piece of paper from the envelope, setting it on the table. “But she’s so much worse than we imagined.”

_ “Again” Catelyn glared at Sansa who was standing en pointe in her ballet shoes in the Stark family library. _

_ “But I’m hungry---”_

_ “Good, that means your body will thin out. You're far too fat” Catelyn stood from her wingback chair to loom over her. “Again.”_

_ Sansa swallowed a fresh wave of tears and resumed first position, pushing herself through the motions that her ballet instructor had taught her. When she reached the third spin, however, Arya burst into the library with a loud laugh, Summer, the family dog chasing behind her._

_ Sansa watched her sister with envy, wondering what it would be like to run and play. To laugh. To wear jeans…. _

_ “Out” her Mother barked and Arya ran from the library, Summer on her heels. Sansa watched her go, wishing more than ever that she could run away too. “Sansa, stop your wool-gathering. Again!” _

_ “Can’t I just go and play--” she whimpered as her Mother’s hand connected with her cheek, the familiar sting echoing across her flesh._

_ “Sansa….”_

_ “Forgive me, Mother” Sansa whimpered, raising a hand to cover her cheek. _

_ “You’re forgiven” her Mother said and Sansa lowered her eyes. “Now. Again!”_

“How could she possibly be worse” Yohn countered, shaking his head. “Sansa told me about the abuse. About the forced repetitive tasks and the way that she was isolated from her siblings--from other children. Gods, Ned, you damned idiot. I looked into taking custody of her entirely during the summer she turned ten and five, you remember that?” Yohn glared and had the satisfaction of seeing Ned shrink into himself. “She shows up at Runestone, a bruised jaw and bruises on her upper arms. The lawyers told me I had no grounds, that I would have to fight the North’s foster families for her. That there was a very good chance they wouldn’t let me have her!”

“Yohn---”

“No” Yohn shook his head, feeling the eyes of Tywin and Jaime on him from the table. “You have no idea what the girl went through. The way she screamed, cried and begged not to go back to Winterfell each and every damned summer. The way she was so desperate for approval, it made my heart break every time she presented me with another painting, another project, another task. She wanted so badly to be loved and your wife did nothing but terrorize her. And now you tell me it is because of what? Because _you_ had an affair?” 

“Catelyn was angry” Ned replied. “She took that anger out on Sansa and on the other hand, I could hardly look at her. Sansa was nothing but a reminder that I had dishonored my family, my---”

“Fuck you” Yohn spat. “She isn’t your bastard and she didn’t make you stick your dick in a woman that wasn’t your wife! She was an innocent girl---”

“Yohn” Tywin’s hand on his forearm brought his anger down to a simmer and Yohn realized that his outburst had garnered them more attention than he wanted at this time. The media was already frothing for information on Sansa, they didn’t need to give them a scandal. 

“I made many mistakes” Ned admitted and Yohn wanted, once again, to throat punch him. “But I am here to make them right.” 

“You can never make them right” Jaime stated and Yohn looked at the younger man with pride. He understood, in some small way, how horrible Sansa’s childhood had been, and knew that there was no coming back from that. 

“I know” Ned looked to the papers on the table, one they’d ignored until now. “But when I saw this, I knew that Catelyn had gone off the deep end.”

Tywin grabbed the paper and brought it closer, reading over it with sharp eyes, “It’s a phone bill.” 

“It is” Ned nodded. “And the highlighted number is Jon’s cell phone.” 

“And?” 

“All these calls were from Catelyn’s phone to Jon,” Ned explained and Yohn felt his stomach spin. 

“Why would Catelyn call Jon?” Yohn whispered. 

“Jon’s a junior fire investigator in Wintertown” Ned said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?” Yohn felt sick, barely able to swallow the bile back. 

“He’s an expert on fire” Ned continued and Yohn watched Jaime as he visibly paled. “On the way they start, on their behavior---”

“If you’re implying what I think that you are---” Tywin glared and Ned nodded. 

“Catelyn lost her mind at the billboards” Ned looked to Jaime briefly as he spoke. “I have never seen her so mad. She’d told everyone that Sansa was dead, and threatened me, should I ever say otherwise she’d parade Jon to my board members and ruin me. But the billboards, Gods” he shook his head. “They made her liar, and no one ever makes a liar of Catelyn Stark.” 

“So she what, calls Jon and asks how to start a fire?” Tywin glared. 

“I think, once your arson investigators are done, it will be much worse than that” Ned admitted, pulling another packet of papers from his envelope, this time the papers were clearly a credit card statement. “I think that Catelyn hired Jon, enlisted him---”

“Are you fucking serious?” Jaime spat and Yohn wondered if the young man would finally come out of his skin. Jaime had been a hair-trigger since Sansa was hospitalized and he knew that under the surface, tensions were boiling high. It might be nice to watch Jaime beat Ned to death. 

The carafe passed by again and he allowed a brief daydream of burning Ned Stark’s face to a crisp. A man could dream, right?

_ “Uncle Yohn?” Sansa whispered from her bed and Yohn closed the storybook, turning to look at her. _

_ “Yes, Princess?” he smiled. _

_ “Are princes real?” she asked. _

_ “I think they are” he smiled, rubbing a hand over her back. _

_ “You think I will find one?” she smiled, hugging her stuffed lion close. They’d found it at the bookstore, of all places, the stuffed lion accompanying the new fairytale story of a royal lion and his lost princess. The story that he had, just now, been reading to her. _

_ “Absolutely” he promised. “One day, when you’re older” he frowned. “Much older” she giggled and he continued. “You will find a man who is brave, gentle and strong and he will not, for a second, be ashamed to love you. You’d be his queen, and I couldn't part with you for anything less” he assured her. _

_ “Yeah?” Sansa beamed, snuggling into her pillow. _

_ “Yeah” he repeated, setting the book on her night table and standing, assuring that she was tucked into the blankets. “Have to make a cute little ‘Sansa Burrito’,” he teased and she giggled as he wrapped her tightly into the quilts. Once that was done, he kissed her forehead, “Goodnight, Princess.”_

_ “Goodnight” she smiled as he clicked the light off and grabbed the door handle. “Uncle Yohn?” she called and he paused, looking back. _

_ “Hmm?”_

_ “How come you’re not my Dad?” she asked in a voice that he could barely hear, the tone small and unsure. “They don’t love me...not like you do. So….why?” _

_ He had no answer. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sips wine* I'm not, like, sorry....


	18. Part 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this! Life has been...ugh. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a hodge-podge. Some flashbacks, some nightmares, some plot. Trying to move things forward and had a bit of writer's block for a while. 
> 
> Anyway!  
Thank you all for your love and support! Your feedback is ALWAYS appreciated, so thank you!

_ “Sweetling?” Petyr’s voice broke her concentration and she turned away from her canvas to face him. _

_ “Hmm?” _

_ “Dinner is ready, you should really eat” he moved behind her stool, admiring the painting over her shoulder. His Van Dyke tickled her collarbone as he placed a kiss there, his hands smoothing over her arms. “It’s beautiful.” _

_ “You like it?” she smiled, looking from the reference photo to the lovers she was bringing to life with oil paint. “I am going to add the moon and some stars.” _

_ “When it's done” Petyr said. “I would like to purchase it. I believe that it would look lovely hanging above the bed, don’t you think?” _

_ “Yes” she agreed, setting her brush aside and turning to kiss him. _

_ “Come eat, my sweetling. Then we can adjourn to more pleasant tasks.” _

Jaime stared at the paperwork in front of him, the words jumbled at first but soon making sense to him. Phone records, credit card statements, his stomach rolled, how could a woman be capable of this?--Simple, Jaime realized. This was the same woman that had disowned her daughter for going against her wishes and her son for being gay. 

“I didn’t think much of it when a friend of mine, Howland, told me that he saw Catelyn in town talking to a man who looked like I did when we were young” Ned said solemnly. “Then she started acting secretive, hiding credit card bills...when Bran left and things got worse.” 

“Bran didn’t ‘leave’,” Yohn interrupted. “He was kicked out. Let’s be clear about that.” 

“I know” Ned sighed, rubbing his temples. 

“I’m amazed the Gods saw fit to give you so many children” Yohn glared. “The way you’ve treated Sansa and Bran, Gods Ned. And then you add a bastard on top of it all!”

“Well you won’t feel bad for him much longer” Ned scoffed. “Catelyn paid him, or at the very least provided financial backing as far as I can tell, paid for his ticket to Lannisport the day of the fire. He was a firefighter, now he is an arson investigator, so he would know how to do it, how to get away with it.”

“So your darling wife paid your bastard to burn down Sansa’s apartment? To hurt Sansa?” Tywin stated plainly. 

Ned nodded, “That is what I believe yes.” 

“What incentive does Jon have to work with Catelyn?” Tywin asked. “She is furious you have a bastard and then turns to him to do the family dirty work? Why would he even take her call?” 

“I don’t know” Ned admitted. “I haven’t spoken to her about it, I can’t pretend to understand what is going on in her head.” 

“No one can” Yohn quipped.

“Why?” Jaime asked softly, shaking his head. “Sansa wasn’t a threat, she didn’t try to contact Catelyn or cause any problems. She didn’t ask for this, she doesn’t deserve this.” 

“The billboards weren’t exactly a subtle play” Ned replied. “When those went viral and the photos of you and Sansa together followed, people in the North began to realize that Sansa wasn’t dead like Catelyn had been telling them.” 

“You can’t push this back on me” Jaime countered, glaring at the man who had donated genetic material to his fiance. “Your wife is the one who lied to everyone in the North.”

“She doesn’t see it like that.” 

“Fucking ridiculous” Jaime muttered. “Your wife is fucking psychotic, you do realize this, right?” Jaime glared and when Ned didn’t speak, he continued. “So Jon, where is he now?” 

“I don’t know” Ned replied and Jaime shook his head. 

“Not good enough” he grabbed the phone records and pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“Jaime” his father’s hand stopped him from dialing. “Police, first we go to the police and then we go to the fire investigator.”

“No, I can call him, find him and beat the shit out of him” Jaime stated. “Then give his unconscious body to the police.” 

“Police first” Yohn agreed. “All of us go together.” 

“Fine. But I get to punch him at least once” Jaime could see that he was outnumbered and reluctantly relinquished the records. He was about to tuck his phone back into his pocket, but quickly typed a message to his siblings and took a photo of Jon’s picture, sending it off before he put the phone away. 

If they didn’t know where Jon was, then he was damn sure going to make sure that anyone sitting with Sansa knew the score. Tyrion was there with her now, and Cersei would likely arrive before the afternoon was over, and both of them needed to be warned. 

What a fucking mess, he sighed to himself. Sansa wasn’t even aware of the situation but his heart still ached for her. When she found out that her Mother was behind this, it would be another scar on her already battered heart. 

“Jaime” his father said quietly. 

“Yeah, sorry” he refocused on the others at the table, leaving his wool-gathering for later. 

“She knew” Tywin said, as if he was reading Jaime’s mind. 

“What?”

“When I was over for dinner, the night you proposed” Tywin explained. “Sansa asked me in the kitchen what the likelihood of it being her mother was. This was before Brienne decided to sign her own death warrant, of course.”

“She did?” Jaime’s heart clenched. His poor Sansa. “What did you say?” 

“That I would have people looking into it” Tywin shook his head. “Addam is a good man, sharp nose for mischief. He went North yesterday morning.”

“That’s good, right?” Jaime asked. 

“Sansa actually asked if it was Cat?” Yohn’s frown was even deeper than Jaime’s, and then his eyes turned cold and he glared across the table at Ned. “You’ve let this go on too long. You’ve enabled Cat to hurt _my_ daughter time and time again, and I swear to you if that boy lays a hand on Sansa, they will need dental records to identify your body.”

“You think that I am alright with this?” Ned countered. 

“Yeah, I do” Yohn argued. “I think you’ve had your head in the sand for decades. You’re miserable in your marriage and you’re miserable as a father. You know that Sansa used to ask me why you didn’t love her? Every summer, she’d ask and I never knew what to say to her. Now, in a way, I think Sansa’s lucky. If you 'loved' her like you did Arya, you’d have shoved her into an arranged marriage too. I can’t wait for this to be over, because then you can go back to the North and sit around with your dick in your hand like you have for the past thirty years” Yohn angrily pulled some cash from his pocket and slammed it onto the table. “Now get up, we’re going to the authorities.” 

_ “You know,” Jaime said softly and Sansa lifted her head to look at him. “I am resisting the temptation to ask you to 'paint me like one of your French girls'.” _

_ Sansa laughed, shaking her head as she sketched, “You’d make a terrible French girl.” _

_ “And yet I am naked and posing nonetheless” he countered. _

_ “That’s because you’re my slave” she teased, setting the sketchbook aside. Jaime had surprised her with the new book, saying that a reboot of her career required a nice, crisp and clean book. She loved the weight of the spiral bound book, and wanted to start filling it right away. Hence why she was sketching Jaime as he lay across their bed._

_ “Being your slave is something I relish in” he watched her crawl across the bed towards him and when she was within range, he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her across his body._

_ “I love you” she said quietly, looking down into his eyes. _

_ “I love you back,” he replied, his emerald eyes soft and filled with emotion. _

“Love is like the wild rose-brier; friendship like the holly tree,” Tyrion read to Sansa, his voice smooth and confident in the quiet of the hospital. He’d been at her bedside for a few hours now, having finished his lunch and opened the book of poetry to begin regaling her with Emily Bronte’s words. 

While he didn’t know who the man was that Jaime, Yohn and his father had escorted down the hall, the sinking feeling in his gut told Tyrion that it wasn’t likely to be a friendly conversation. 

Occasionally, a nurse would pop in and check Sansa’s vitals, making a few notes on the chart before returning to her rounds. But Tyrion was focused on reading. He’d read that those in a coma could hear the people around them and were more aware than you’d think, so he wanted to read something soft and hopeful to his sister-in-law to be. 

He never imagined that Jaime would settle down, he always seemed so carefree and happy being unattached but Tyrion knew the moment that Jaime brought Sansa to Cersei’s party, his brother was a goner. It took a special woman to not only put up with Jaime but to tame him and make him happier than Tyrion had ever seen him. He’d been very worried when Sansa had vanished, watching Jaime’s heartache was hard and Tyrion was grateful that she had come back.

As if his thoughts made it so, his phone vibrated in his lap and he looked to see a message from Jaime. Frowning, he traded the book in his hand for the phone and unlocked the screen. 

_ “Stay w/Sansa. May know who behind fire. Watch for him or redhead woman. More soon.”_ he read and felt his blood chill. Opening the attached image he looked at the pouting, pale facade of a young man with dark, curly hair and matching dark eyes. This man had tried to hurt Sansa? Who was he? Why would he do this? Tyrion wondered what could possibly have prompted the Gods to send so much harm after Sansa.

“The holly is dark when the rose-brier blooms;” he resumed his reading, making note of every nurse and doctor that came by the room. 

It was a half hour later that Cersei arrived, carrying a tray of coffee and pastries which she set on the table between their chairs. She sank into the chair with a sigh, looking as regal as a queen as she always did. 

“Thank you” Tyrion said as she handed him his cup.

“See Jaime’s message?” she asked simply. 

“I did” Tyrion said and Cersei nodded, taking a long drink from her paper cup before she spoke.

“No one is going to hurt her. Not again.” 

“Not on our watch” Tyrion agreed. 

"I almost hope I get to him before Jaime does" Cersei smirked. "I'd feed him his testicles."

“Charming. Now relax and allow me to shower you with culture.” 

“Lovely” Cersei snarked.

_ “Jaime” Sansa yelled, but he couldn’t hear her through the glass. It was either that or he was ignoring her, and it just made her yell louder. “Jaime!” _

_ Still nothing, she felt panic bubbling in her chest and she raised her hands pounding on the glass. She slammed her hands into the glass until they ached, but he never looked her way. Instead, he was solely focused on Brienne, both of them sitting at a small table inside the restaurant, lost in conversation. _

_ She had to get inside, she decided, rushing to the door, only to be met with a large, angry looking security guard who stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. _

_ “No, please, you have to let me in” she tried to move around him but he didn’t budge. “Move!”_

_ “He’s not yours,” the man said and she shook her head. _

_ “No, he is” she argued, leaning around him. “Jaime! Jaime!”_

_ Inside, he saw Jaime lift his head, finally noticing her. He stood and set his napkin on the chair before moving toward her. A loud explosion filled the air and she stared in horror at the sight of Brienne holding a handgun, the growing red stain on Jaime’s chest making her scream. _

_ “No!” _

Jaime was exhausted by the time he returned to the hospital late that night. They’d spent hours with the police and fire investigators going over all of the new information that Ned Stark had brought to the table. 

Reluctant as he was to admit it, Jaime knew that Ned had greatly helped them, both with the information about Cat and the warning about Jon. Soon it would be over with and he could focus on Sansa and getting her back to healthy.

Cersei and Tyrion had stood watch today, and were relieved by Tormund a short while ago. Jaime knew that Tormund would keep her safe, so he went by the apartment and showered, shaved and put on fresh clothes. He planned on staying the night with her, and didn’t want to feel totally grungy in the morning. 

Entering the room, he found Tormund reading in the chair beside the bed and the moment he entered, Tormund was on his feet, ready to protect Sansa. 

“At ease” Jaime gave a tired smile. 

“Didn’t expect you tonight” Tormund smiled. 

“I’d rather be here than in the bed at home without her,” he replied, moving to her bedside and gently kissing her forehead. “You can go, I know Bran is waiting at home for you.” 

“If you’re sure” Tormund asked, tucking his novel in his back pocket. 

“I am” Jaime shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for sitting with her.” 

“Your sister, she told me about the man, showed me his picture” Tormund explained. “Jon Snow.”

“You know him?”

“The North isn’t so very big” Tormund reasoned. “I have met him before, but we aren’t friends.”

“If you have any information about him, let the police know,” Jaime said. “They’re putting out an APB for him in an attempt to find him. Not knowing where he is makes him even more dangerous.” 

“I will make a few calls to my friends back up North” Tormund assured him. “I will get the eyes and ears going up there too.” 

“Thank you” Jaime sank into the chair beside the bed. 

“I will see you tomorrow” Tormund gave him an encouraging smile and Jaime did his best to return it. “Try to get some sleep, eh?”

“No promises” Jaime said and Tormund vanished from the room, his footsteps growing faint as he moved down the hall. 

Jaime leaned forward, carefully taking Sansa’s hand in his where it lay on the bed beside her. She had more color today, for which he was grateful, the dim light beside the bed casting her in an ethereal glow that made her look like a princess in a fairy tale. 

“I’ve decided” he said softly, absently running his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. He was mindful of her bandage, glad to see it was a small, regular style band-aid rather than the gauze they had been using before. Sansa’s hands were her livelihood and it looked as if they would make a full recovery. “When this is all over with and you’re finally home, that we should get a cat” he gave a weak smile. 

“Or maybe take a very long, very tropical vacation. Maybe both” he spoke into the quiet room. “A cat would keep you company at home and a vacation means that I can spend days in bed with you without my family interrupting.”

Footsteps sounded in the hall a second before the doctor arrived. “Staying the night again?” the doctor smiled as he grabbed Sansa’s chart. 

“Yeah” Jaime nodded. 

“She had another scan this afternoon,” the doctor explained, flipping through the papers. “The swelling is greatly reduced and I have ordered they wean her off the medicine keeping her under. Which means that she will likely be awake by morning.” 

“That’s great news” Jaime agreed, hope coming to life in his chest. 

“It remains to be seen if the head injury will have any lasting effects, but once she is awake we can address those issues if they come.” 

“Issues?” 

“Changes in speech, vision, memory loss, tremors, that sort of thing” the doctor closed her chart and placed it back in the holder on the wall. “The brain is the last frontier in medical science, its very delicate but very resilient. She’s already on the mend, which is encouraging.” 

“She’s stronger than anyone I know” Jaime agreed. 

“She is very strong, and very lucky to have such a caring family” the doctor agreed. “I will be back in a few hours.”

“Thank you” Jaime said and then he was alone with Sansa once more. Scooting the chair closer, he lay his head beside her hand on the bed, letting the tips of her fingers rest against his lips. “Soon we’ll get you out of here, Stark” he promised her. “And I am going to marry you so damn fast, your head will spin.”

He watched her until the exhaustion proved too much and he felt his eyelids drifting shut, the soft touch of his Sansa's skin against his lips lulling him into slumber. 

Everything hurt. Sansa nearly groaned aloud, but even the idea of groaning hurt. The world had been returning to her in stages now, smell, sound and now pain. So much pain, Gods, even her teeth hurt. 

_What the hell had happened?_ she wondered, then the memory hit her almost as hard as the fucking car had. _Oh. That_. 

Forcing her eyelids open, she ignored the fact that they felt like sandpaper, watering now as the light hit them and she looked around. She assumed she was in the hospital, given the uncomfortable bed and fact that she’d been, you know, hit by a fucking car, but was surprised at how nice the private room was. 

Flowers littered the surfaces around the room and when she turned to the chair beside the bed, the familiar body made her smile. Jaime was asleep sitting in the chair, his upper body leaning against the bed and his head beside her hand. He looked thinner than she remembered and she frowned deeply, wondering how long she’d been asleep. 

He was also a little blurry, or maybe it was her eyes that were a little blurry, she tried to get them to focus but that only made the pain in her head worse so she gave up. She’d worry about the blur later, she decided. 

She twitched her fingers, barely grazing Jaime’s lips but the action was enough to wake him regardless. 

“Sansa” he whispered, instantly on his feet hovering over the bed. “You’re awake---thank the fucking Gods.” 

“Hi” she said weakly, her throat dry and sore. 

“Fuck” he swallowed and she noticed the tears on his cheeks. 

“No cry” she forced the words out. 

“You have no idea how good it is to see you awake” he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. 

“Long?”

“Too long” he replied. “Your brain was swollen and they kept you under for several days.” 

“Oh” she swallowed and grimaced at the awful taste in her mouth. 

“I should get the doctor, nurse or something but I don’t want to leave” he leaned closer and hit the call button, letting the nurses come to him. Before he stood, he softly kissed her, lingering on her lips in the most achingly sweet way.

“Love” she whispered. “You.”

“I love you back” he promised. 

“Head hurts” she closed her eyes. 

“The nurse will be here soon,” he assured her and she gave a very faint nod that made her head felt like it was going to roll off. She was going to murder whoever was driving that car, and then she was going to go on a very long, very tropical vacation. That sounded absolutely ideal. 

Jaime watched Sansa’s eyes flutter shut, his heart racing with elation. She was finally awake and he could finally look into those beautiful eyes of hers. Soon she would be cleared to go home and he would make sure that she was very well taken care of there. He hadn’t thought about waiting on someone hand and foot before, but he was damned sure going to do it now. 

He hit the call button again and footsteps sounded in the hall. He quickly wiped his cheeks with his sweater again and turned to face the doctor. 

Only when he turned to the door, it wasn’t the doctor greeting him, but the very dark eyes of the bastard himself, Jon Snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The poem Tyrion is reading to Sansa is called "Love And Friendship" by Emily Bronte.


	19. Part 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say sorry for the delay, but it hasn't been _that_, though I am sure you're all foaming at the mouth. ;) I love love LOVE how much YOU guys love this story! Thank you!!!
> 
> A huge, big, WOW, SPECIAL thank you to TommyGinger for help with this chapter and its plot twists and turns. "I'm giving her all she's got Cap'n!"
> 
> Some warnings, the first flashback (italics) has mention of infidelity. The second (second set of italics) has mentions of abuse between Catelyn/Sansa. 
> 
> There's an easter egg in here, a nice little homage to another fic of mine I couldn't help but sneak in there LOL. <3

Jaime had hesitated many times in his life. He’d been afraid, timid and unsure. He'd avoided looking truth in the face and he made excuses for people that he shouldn't have.

But the moment that Jon Snow’s face appeared in the doorway, Jaime was proud to say that he didn’t hesitate a single second. Since he was already on his feet, it was easy enough to step forward and land a solid punch on the younger man’s jaw, sending him to the floor in a heartbeat. 

The satisfying sound of the little bastard boy bouncing against the flooring would forever be etched in his mind. Forever cherished.

“Stop!” he called out as Jaime stepped over him, grabbing the collar of his faded t-shirt. “STOP! I’m not here to hurt her!”

“And yet you burned her apartment down, you shit!” Jaime hauled him to his feet and backed him against the wall beside the door. 

“I didn’t know!” the man, Jon, said quickly, raising his hands in supplication. “I didn’t know it was her apartment. She told me it was yours!”

“What?” Jaime hissed, moving him forward only to slam him back against the wall, delighting in his pained grimace. 

“Catelyn--Mrs.Stark” Jon explained. “She told me that the apartment belonged to Jaime Lannister, the man who was stalking Sansa!” 

“What?” Jaime felt the blood drain from his face and his hold relax on the little man. Just then a nurse appeared, stepping through the door and staring at them with wide eyes and a high-pitched squeak. Jaime had almost forgotten that he had called for a nurse when Sansa awoke. “Out” he snapped at her and she scurried away. Once they were alone, he turned back to Jon. “What the fuck are you babbling about?” 

“Catelyn Stark---she lied to me, tricked me, blackmailed--whatever!” he stammered and rambled. “I didn’t know it was Sansa’s apartment, I never meant to hurt her!”

“Fucking Hells” Jaime cursed, turning the boy around and shoving him, rather ungracefully, into a chair. “You have five minutes to convince me, or I will rip off your arm and fucking beat you to death with it, you hear me?” Jon nodded, eyes wide. “Good. Now talk.”

“You gonna hit me again?” Jon asked, touching his swollen cheek. 

“Probably” Jaime replied. 

“At least you’re honest” Jon shook his head. “She didn’t tell me that much.” 

“Talk” Jaime prompted. 

“I take it you know who I am” Jon stated. 

“You’re wasting time” Jaime glared. 

“Fine” Jon flexed his jaw, grimacing at the ache and Jaime only felt smug satisfaction. “Catelyn Stark, she called me a few months ago and asked to meet with me. Obviously we were both aware of each other, but that was the first time that we had actually spoken. I was intrigued, so I agreed to meet with her on the following day.”

“And?”

“And she was crying” Jon explained. “She was really upset. She told me that Sansa was alive, that she had only faked her death to escape some rich man she’d met at University. She said that the rich man had found Sansa in her new life in Lannisport, and was threatening to kill her if he didn’t marry her.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

“She asked me to help get rid of him--offered to pay me” Jon sighed. “She knew that I had inherited all of my mother’s medical debt last year and I could barely pay my bills as it was.”

“She told you that I was threatening Sansa?” Jaime scoffed shaking his head. “And you believed her?” 

“She showed me the billboards,” Jon continued and Jaime cursed. Loudly. 

“Fucking billboards” Jaime growled. 

“I love billboards” Sansa said, her voice slightly slurred, surprising them both by being awake. 

“Sansa” Jaime moved to her side, keeping half an eye on Jon who seemed to be staring at Sansa with unabashed awe. 

“Hurts” she whined, squinting her eyes closed with a grimace. 

“Shit” he forgot, the nurse! Leaning over her he pressed the call button again, “She will be here soon, just try to stay still.” 

“Why is Jon here” Sansa asked softly. “I don’t think I’ve seen him since high school---” she froze. “Oh Gods, I am not in high school again, am I?” 

“No” Jaime chuckled in spite of himself. “It is far more complicated than that.” 

“Oh” she frowned as the nurse appeared, this time entering the room with trepidation. 

“She’s awake” Jaime told the nurse. “And she keeps saying that her head hurts.”

“Alright,” the nurse nodded to him and then looked briefly to Jon. “I will let the doctor know and get another dose of her pain medication. Is everything alright here?”

“We’re fine” Jon surprised Jaime by smiling at the nurse. “Just family squabbles.” 

“Right” she gave an unsure smile and darted away. 

“Catelyn told me you were hurting Sansa” Jon explained, resuming their earlier conversation. “Money aside, I knew that I had to help.” 

“So you set fire to her apartment?” 

“To be fair, Catelyn told me it belonged to you” Jon said. 

“Some fucking investigator you are” Jaime glared. 

“I never claimed to be a Rhodes Scholar” Jon stated. “Catelyn told me that Sansa was in trouble and that no one else had been able to get through to her. She begged for help and she offered--paid a lot of money.” 

“All lies” Jaime glared. 

“I can see that now” Jon said quietly, moving closer to Sansa’s bed. “I shouldn’t have listened to her, but the billboards were convincing when she spun them under light of a stalker.” 

“I never stalked her. Fuck, I’ve never even raised my voice at her” Jaime reasoned. “And Catelyn disowned Sansa after she changed her major. She hasn't spoken to her parents in years. I can’t believe you’d be stupid enough to listen to her.” 

“Yeah” Jon ran a hand over his face. “Well, my mother died last year and I don’t have any other family, I thought” he broke off, staring at the wall near the window for several seconds. “I thought I would be helping. Desperation breeds stupidity.” 

“You’re an idiot” Jaime stated. 

“Listen, I came here to make sure she is okay. I didn’t come here to hurt her” Jon argued. “I saw you with her outside the apartment the night of the fire, I could tell that you love her. Really, truly love her. You practically fucking orbit her, hovering, helping and you’re never far away if she needed you. And she followed you with her eyes and the sadness that was there as kids...it's gone. What I saw wasn’t a relationship based on fear.”

“Because it’s not” Jaime said as the nurse returned, this time with a small syringe in hand. Jaime and Jon lapsed into awkward silence as the nurse administered the pain medication with a tight smile. 

“The doctor will be by shortly,” she assured them, and high-tailed it out of there. Jaime kept his eyes on Jon as he pulled his phone out, seeing the texts his father had sent saying that he was nearly to the hospital. Well, this should prove interesting. 

“Jaime” Sansa slurred softly with a drunken sort of smile, the drugs were clearly kicking in. 

“I’m here” he assured her, carefully taking her hand in his, ignoring the twinge in his knuckles. He was glad he got one punch in before Jon explained how easily he’d been manipulated by Catelyn Stark. He didn’t feel bad through, the shit had it coming. 

“Where’s Lil' Jo?” she asked and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Little Jo?” he asked. 

“Daugh...ter” she whispered, lapsing into a drug-hazed slumber. Jaime stared at her for several minutes, trying to figure out why Sansa was asking about their daughter that didn’t even exist yet. What had she been dreaming while they kept her under? 

“It's the medication” Jon eventually said. “My Mom had cancer, it was a long, slow death and the pain medication made her seeing and saying strange things.” 

Jaime clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to punch him again, just for intruding on this private moment. He wanted to be celebrating that Sansa was awake and aware--well, slightly aware, but instead he was standing with the man who had burned her apartment to the ground and now saw fit to offer medical advice. 

He was saved, however, when Tywin and Cersei rounded the doorway. To her credit, Cersei reacted faster than Tywin could have anticipated, launching herself at Jon. She didn’t care about her designer clothes or the fact that one of her high heels went flying across the room, she just wanted to protect Sansa. 

Jaime had never loved his sister more. 

“Alright, lioness” Tywin grabbed Cersei around the waist, physically hauling her backwards, though she kept hissing and spewing curse words that would have made sailor’s blush. 

“Fuck” Jon was holding his now bleeding nose. “Is that how all Lannister’s say ‘hello’?” 

“No, but his is how we say ‘fuck you’!” Cersei lifted up both middle fingers as Tywin carried her across the room to the door. And of course, because the morning wasn’t sitcom enough, the doctor chose that minute to walk in. 

“Well” he cleared his throat, looking to Jon’s bleeding face. “You know, you should probably see a doctor.” 

Jaime couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing, sinking into the chair beside Sansa’s bed, resting his head in his hands. What a fucking morning. 

_ “Sweetling?” Petyr’s voice called and she felt fear, disgust and anger rolling in her stomach. She had been waiting for what felt like weeks for him to get home. “Where are you?” _

_ “Here” she said weakly, turning to face him as he reached the living room. _

_ “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, looking to the bag at her feet._

_ “You’re late” she said softly. _

_ “I told you that I had another long day of student appointments,” he explained. “Finals are coming, as you know” _

_ “Right, right. Too bad they aren’t the only thing coming, eh?” _

_ “What?”_

_ “I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes” she shook her head, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. She refused to cry in front of him, and she knew once she started crying, she wouldn’t stop._

_ “Sweetling, what are you talking--”_

_ “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore” she interjected. “And you don’t get to touch me, kiss me or fuck me anymore either.” _

_ “Sansa--” _

_ “At least she’s beautiful” Sansa pulled the photograph from the envelope and place it in his hands. It showed him and the redhead student aide in the throes of passion and it made her sick to her stomach. She had taken it just a few hours ago, the moment her life came crumbling down around her for the second time. “It would probably have hurt more if she was ugly” she let out a sardonic laugh. _

_ “Sansa, I can explain---” _

_ “I don’t want to hear it” she bent down and picked up her bag. “I’ll be back for the rest of my things tomorrow.” _

_ “Sansa---Sansa, please. I love you---”_

_ “No” she shook her head. “You love yourself, and only yourself or you wouldn’t have hurt me. To think, if I hadn’t have gone to your office to surprise you for my birthday, I never would have known. You're a very good liar, Petyr.”_

_ “Sansa” he looked as if he were going to cry. Good. _

_ “Next time you’re going to tell someone you’re working late, try actually working” she spat. “Goodbye Petyr.” She took a step away only to stop, and turn back to face him, “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?” _

When finally, hours later, Jon had left with the fire investigators and the police detectives, Jaime watched as Cersei pulled a flask from her Chanel bag to take a long drink. 

“Geez, Cers, we’re in a hospital” Jaime scoffed. 

“Your point?” she took another drink and then offered the flask to him. 

“Fair enough” he grabbed it and took a drink, grimacing at the unexpected taste. “I didn’t know you were a whisky girl” he said as he handed it back to his twin.

“Robert always has the good shit” she countered, capping the flash and tucking it back in her bag. 

“Robert” Jaime chuckled. “Big Bob.” 

“Oh shut up” Cersei laughed. 

“You believe him?” Jaime asked after several minutes of silence. 

“Jon?” Cersei shrugged. “He seems dumb enough to get sucked into Catelyn’s schemes. People do weird shit for money. His lips are too thin to turn tricks--” she paused. “Gods that was a visual I didn’t need.”

“Same” Jaime sighed. “What a fucking mess.” 

“I’d be more worried about Brienne” Cersei’s smirk was dangerous. 

“Why?” 

“She has gone over the edge, from what I hear” Cersei explained. “Full on psychotic.”

“Fuck” Jaime said. “Though, to be fair, I don’t know how much more psychotic you can get than running someone down with a car.” 

“A rental car too” Cersei reasoned. “Shows premediation and forethought enough to prove it wasn’t a moment of insanity.” 

“When did you get so smart?” 

“One of us has to be” Cersei countered. “You’re the beauty, I’m the brains.” Jaime’s laugh filled the hospital room and Sansa stirred against the pillows, mumbling before settling back into sleep. 

“When she was awake earlier” Jaime said softly. “She asked where ‘Little Jo’ was.”

“Who?” 

“Little Jo” Jaime looked to his sister. “Apparently, from what I can reason, she was dreaming about our daughter.” 

“Oh” Cersei nodded, then smiled. “I am going to spoil the fuck out of my niece. Please, don’t have sons, just girls, I need a loyal army of supermodels.”

“Supermodels” Jaime scoffed. 

“With Sansa’s height and bone structure, and your coloring? I could take over the world.” 

“Great” Jaime gave a dramatic sigh. “Not even conceived yet and you’re planning to kidnap my children.” 

“Well, I have to do something” Cersei shrugged. “Not like I am going to let Robert’s hellspawn ruin my figure. Have you seen the size of the Baratheon men? No, thank you. Children are lovely, as long as I can give them back at the end of the day and enjoy a nice relaxing bubble bath with a sheet mask and a glass of wine--okay, bottle of wine.” 

“You’re going to be _that_ Aunt, huh?” 

“Not like Tysha is going to be the fabulous, stylish and possibly-alcoholic Aunt. I will take the hit for the team.” 

“Fair enough” Jaime laughed, reaching out to take Sansa’s hand, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. “Just give us a while, I need her healthy and safe.”

“And here I thought you were going to wheel her to the nearest chapel as soon as you could” Cersei snarked. 

“That too.” 

_ Sansa did her best to keep up, trying to remember the steps that the teacher had taught them, had drilled into them. The other girls around her made it seem effortless and fluid, but Sansa felt like a clown. _

_ The other girls were perhaps, 5’6” tops, all delicate and small, but she was just over 6-feet tall in her pointe shoes, towering over them like a Redwood tree over shrubs. Not to mention her vibrant red hair made her stick out like a sore thumb regardless. _

_ She turned smoothly, but her foot caught on something and she stumbled, falling to the hardwood flooring with an echoing ‘thud’. When she looked to the floor she didn’t see an obstacle, but instead found the tapping pointe shoe of the self-proclaimed ‘prima’ of the class. Claire Stevenson. _

_ “Get up giraffe!” she hissed at Sansa. “You’re blocking my space. Some of us have to practice.”_

_ Sansa pushed to her feet, ignoring the pain in her hip as she glared down at the smaller girl, “And some of us had to grow up. Get over yourself.” Sansa turned away but was surprised when the girls hands connected with her back, shoving her violently forward. She stumbled, but managed to catch herself this time. _

_ “Freak” Claire hissed and Sansa marched forward, determined to pound her into the floor, but the familiar angry hand of her mother closed around her upper arm, dragging her from the recital room. _

_ “Please” Sansa whispered, trying to keep up with her mother’s pace, but feeling clumsy in her pointe shoes. “You’re hurting me, please stop---” _

_ “You’re embarrassing yourself and your family with your behavior and it will stop this instant” Catelyn hissed, her faces only inches from Sansa’s. _

_ “She started it--” Sansa whimpered when her mother’s hand tightened on her arm and she shook her to cut off her words._

_ “Ladies do not fight, Sansa Minisa Stark. You will never act this way again, is that clear?” _

_ She wanted to cry, wanted to scream and run away but she forced herself to stand tall, a height that was equal to her mother’s now, “I don’t want to do ballet anymore” she said the words she’d held back for years._

_ “I don’t care what you want” Catelyn scoffed. _

_ “I am sixteen now, I have been in ballet for almost twelve years and I am never going to be--” Sansa reasoned. _

_ “You’ll just have to practice harder, and I am restricting your diet again, you’re far too large” Catelyn cut in and Sansa’s stomach rolled with fear and hunger. She hardly ate as it was, she didn’t have any more weight to lose!_

_ “Please--ow” she choked on a cry as Catelyn shoved her towards the car. Sansa took the unspoken instruction, crawling into the passenger seat and buckling herself in. Her mother lectured her the entire drive home, but Sansa tuned her out, staring out the window and watching the world at large. _

_ As they drove by the park down the street from her house, she saw Arya running around with several of her friends, laughing and climbing on the play structure. Sansa felt white hot pain lance against her heart, and with it, more than a dose of jealousy. She wanted to run, to laugh, more than anything...she wanted friends. _

_Sansa was out the door as soon as the car was parked, all but running to her room as her mother yelled after her. She locked the bedroom door and flopped onto the bed, frantically removing her pointe shoes, leg warmers and leotard. _

_She hissed in pain as she pulled her tights away, staring at the large bruise forming on her hip from where Claire had tripped her. The porcelain skin was bright red and swollen, painful to the touch. It seemed fitting, Sansa thought as she turned her arm to see the bright red hand print her mother had left, this one over faded bruises from the same grip a few days ago._

_ “A matched set” she whispered to herself, looking to the calendar on her wall. Only another year and a half, only a short while until she was 18 and she could run far, far away. Someplace where Catelyn could never hurt her again. _

Catelyn Stark had just finished retouching her makeup when the front doorbell rang. She frowned, then relaxed her expression and absently touched the wrinkles on her forehead. Best not frown, it wasn’t good for the skin, she thought. 

Moving from the bedroom, she checked her appearance in the hallway mirror, ensuring that everything was in place. Just because unexpected company was rude, didn’t mean that she had to look unkempt at their arrival. 

People didn’t realize it, but being the richest woman in the North was a lot of work and upkeep. She always had to look impeccable, her family had to be impeccable. She’d worked very hard to keep their reputation and appearances squeaky clean.

Her designer heels clicked on the foyer marble and a moment later she was opening the door. She was taken aback, however, at the sight of two men in grey suits, two men in police uniforms and several Wintertown Police cars in the driveway. 

“What seems to be the problem, officers?” she stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. 

“Catelyn Stark” the taller of the suit-clad men spoke, his voice gruff and cold. “You’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit arson, attempted murder and several counts of blackmail and fraud.” 

“What?!” she shrieked, too shocked to resist as the other suit-clad man turned her and she found herself being handcuffed behind her back. “Unhand me this instant!”

“You have the right to remain silent--”

‘This is all a mistake! I have done nothing wrong!” 

“Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law.”

“Do you know who I am!?”

“You have the right to an attorney--”

“Oh I have an attorney and when this is over, I will have your badges too!”

“If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you at no cost. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?” 

“Unhand me!” she demanded a second time, her heart racing and panic welling inside of her. The men exchanged a nod and they led her down the stairs, carting her like beef to the patrol car where they shoved her in the back, smacking her head against the top of the car as she sat. 

That fucking bastard boy, Catelyn seethed as the door closed and she was left in the silence of the car’s cage. She could only watch as the other men entered the house, their snow-covered boots tracking dirt onto the marble. 

Stupid bastard, she closed her eyes in an attempt to control herself. Typical of Ned’s children, she scoffed to herself, couldn’t keep his mouth shut and do his job. What a damned mess. She’d make him pay for this. She was Catelyn Stark, how dare he cross her! He’d regret the day he was ever fucked into that whore mother of his. 

And that was a promise.


	20. Part 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love and support. Have I mentioned how much I appreciate it? 
> 
> I never imagined that people would read my drabble, and here we are....
> 
> This chapter is a several days after the last. Some long awaited fluff and banter....(and well-earned, you guys are the best).

To Sansa, time seemed to pass in a haze, more often than not in a place between wakefulness and slumber, catching little glimpses of life as it happened around her. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but when the fog finally lifted, she opened her eyes to see Jaime asleep in a chair next to the bed and Yohn reading in the chair beside him. 

Both men were slightly blurry, but she would know their forms anywhere; Jaime as tall and lean as Yohn was broad, with his shock of white hair. 

“Good morning, Princess” Yohn said softly, closing his book and setting it on the bedside table. 

“Hi” she gave a small smile. She had a terrible migraine, but the pain was better than it had been the last time she was awake, and it hurt only as bad as her right leg.

“I would ask how you’re feeling, but I think the answer is fairly obvious” Yohn smile, standing to approach the left side of the bed. As he reached her, she raised her hand to take his, pausing at the tremor in her left hand. 

“That’s new” she flattened her palm and watched the extremity shake in the air. 

“It’ll fade” Yohn assured her, taking her hand in his. “No need to worry about it. I am just grateful to see you’re awake.”

“Hi Daddy” she smiled, giving his hand a squeeze the best she could. 

“Princess” he smiled down at her. “I always said you were hard-headed, I just didn’t realize how hard until now.” 

She gave a small smile, trying not to laugh, “As long as you’re not going to make me wear a helmet any time I leave the house.” 

“Don’t tempt me” he countered and Jaime stirred in the chair. 

“Has he left?” 

“Rarely” Yohn replied. “He made sure that even when he did leave, that you were never alone.” 

“I am sure it’s been exciting, watching me sleep” Sansa frowned. 

“Watching you heal, that’s the important part” Yohn reminded her. 

“I’m hungry” she said with a frown, the hollow feeling in her stomach distracting her temporarily from the ache in her head. 

“I knew you were feeling better. Already thinking with your stomach.”

“You know me” Sansa turned to see Jaime blinking himself awake, running his hands over his shaggy hair and the beard that had begun to grow there. As much as she loved the sharp line of his jaw, the beard was incredibly sexy. Why did she have the distinct urge to lick it? 

Jaime looked up at her and was on his feet in an instant, moving to the other side of the bed, opposite Yohn. 

“Hi” she smiled up at him as best she could. 

“I am going to let the nurse know you’re hungry” Yohn kissed the back of her hand, giving her a secret smile before excusing himself from the room. 

“Sansa” Jaime swallowed, his eyes suspiciously glossy. 

“No good morning kiss, Lannister?” she teased and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Come here, I don’t smell that bad, do I?” 

“Even if you did, I’d still kiss you, Stark” he promised, leaning down to brush his lips across hers. She lifted her left hand, ignoring the tremor as she smoothed his hair from his face. “Gods, I fucking missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too” she smiled, cupping his bearded cheek. 

“I am never letting you leave the house again” he teased, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. 

“Probably safest, at this rate” she agreed, smoothing her thumb over his cheek. “How bad is it? And don’t lie to me, it looks like a funeral home in here with all the flowers.” And that much was true, they seemed to cover every surface of the hospital room. 

“Injuries or the shit show everything has become while you were sleeping?” 

“Both.”

“We were all preparing for major lasting effects of the traumatic brain injury, and the surgery for your abdomen wall repair went well” Jaime explained. “Then your Dad showed up--Ned Dad not Dad Dad, and then Jon showed up.” 

“That wasn’t a morphine dream then” she frowned. “Why the fuck was Ned here? And Jon? I barely knew him growing up, I don’t--” 

“Jon is your father’s bastard” Jaime interjected and Sansa felt the news like a physical blow. Suddenly, it all made sense. Why he tried to be her friend, why her mother never let her speak to him, why she’d threatened Sansa to stay away from him. Jon was the same age as she was, which meant that her father’s affair had been at the same time she was conceived. 

“My Mother knew?” Sansa said and Jaime nodded. “Gods I wish I could have seen the look on her face when she found out, there goes her perfect little family.” 

“It gets worse, San” he smoothed her hair from her face, carefully, minding the bandage on the side of her head. “Your Mother, Catelyn, she hired Jon to burn down your apartment. It's a long story, but she’s been arrested in Wintertown and is being extradited to Lannisport Police custody. Jon is already with them and is cooperating fully. I am fairly certain that after the beating he received from myself and Cersei, he was afraid to upset Tywin.” 

“Oh” she exhaled, her stomach sore and tight. “You know, I had thought it was possible that she would be behind it, but actually _knowing_ it…” 

“Like I said” Jaime smiled that million-dollar smile. “It's been a shit show without you, Stark.”

“You didn’t make anymore billboards while I was asleep, did you?” 

“No, but I can if it helps you get out of this place faster.” 

“Not a chance” she countered. “When can you sneak me out of here?” 

“I’m not sneaking you anywhere except to the closest Sept once the doctor clears you” he smirked. 

“Oh?”

He pulled a chain from beneath the collar of his v-neck sweater and she smiled at her engagement ring as it came into view, “You did promise to marry me, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

Sansa smiled, “Never, I practically bullied you into it.” 

“True, but I’m not complaining” he nodded and she almost laughed, only the pain in her stomach stopping her. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. He turned her hand over and placed a kiss on the palm, while the flesh was no longer red, or torn, she was still a bit sore and his lips felt lovely. “All better” he smiled up at her. 

“You’re going to be an incredible father” she said the words before she could stop them and felt her cheeks heat. “Gods, I think the accident broke my filter.” 

“You had a filter?”

“Shut up” Sansa teased. 

“Speaking of” he grinned, his emerald eyes alight with mischief and she realized then how much she’d missed him. Though she wasn’t aware of it, given that she was asleep most of the time, but she had missed seeing him. Missed his smile. His voice. The way he held her hand. “Tell me about Little Jo.” 

“Little Jo?” she frowned, then suddenly remembered the dreams she had and felt her cheeks turn bright red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” she lied and Jaime laughed, a true, belly-deep laugh that made her heart feel lighter. 

“You’re a shit liar, Stark,” he replied. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I have been told that the medicine can produce some pretty good dreams or horrific nightmares.”

“There were plenty of both,” she admitted. “Memories I’ve repressed for so long seemed to all break free at once.”

“And Little Jo?”

“She’s beautiful” Sansa said softly, feeling the tears rush to her eyes at the memory of her dream. “She’s so perfect.” 

“Just like her father then” Jaime preened. 

“Oh hush” Sansa chided, shaking her head which only served to remind her that one side of her head was still rather broken. “Ow.”

“Just take it easy” Jaime reminded her, gently placing his free hand over her stomach. “Just relax.” 

“I’ve been relaxing” she pouted. “I want to go home--to our home, and I want crazy bitches to leave us alone,” she whispered. 

“The crazy bitches in question are in jail” Jaime assured her. “And between Yohn, all of the Lannisters and Tormund, we mean to keep them there.” 

“I just want to go home, get married and get on with our lives” she sighed, licking lips that suddenly felt too dry. “And I want a cheeseburger--or pizza--no, eggrolls, I want eggrolls.” 

“I will see what I can do” Jaime promised. 

“She has your eyes” Sansa said, her brain a bit scattered but still remembering that she hadn’t told Jaime much of Little Jo. “And my hair--sort of, it's more strawberry.” 

“A perfect mix of copper and gold” Jaime said. 

“Ever the ad man.”

“Damn right” he leaned down to kiss her lips briefly, then rested his head over her heart where she assumed he was listening to the beat. He was careful to keep his weight off of her, but they both allowed their bodies to relax into the moment, into the physical connection--however small, that had nearly been taken from them both. 

“I love you” Sansa whispered, burying her trembling hand in his hair. 

“I love you back” he took a shuddering breath, burrowing his face against her breast. “And don’t you _ever_ get hurt like this again.” 

“Jaime---” 

“I can’t” he said and while she could barely see his face, but could tell his eyes were tightly closed. “I can’t do this without you here. I can’t. I won’t.”

“Do what?” 

“Breathe” he whispered and she felt tears building in her own eyes. “They wouldn’t let me see you, they wouldn’t tell me anything and I just…” he paused and she felt his body shaking against hers. “I love you, so much. I am going to marry you and we’re going to have beautiful babies and I can’t...I can’t do that without you here” she held him as he quietly sobbed, one hand holding hers and the other braced on the bed, his upper body snuggled against her as best as her injuries would allow. 

Her strong, wonderful man, he’d stayed at her bedside and he’d been so strong, but now... 

Sansa couldn’t speak, her own emotions had closed her throat and she couldn’t seem to find the words to assure him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Even if she did, it could be a lie. There was no telling what would happen in the future, but she knew that she would never willingly part herself from him. 

She could only hold him, ignoring the ache in her body and the tears on her own cheeks to hold him tightly, promising without words that she was here and she was alive. 

“Okay bitch, here’s the deal” Cersei said, setting her arm loads of shopping bags onto the side table. 

“Hello to you too” Sansa smiled at the blonde woman, who gave a warm smile in return. 

“I am not going to get emotional, I am wearing Dior mascara and that shit’s expensive” Cersei continued. “But you ever get hit by a car or she-beast or whatever again? I’ll kill you myself.”

“Noted” Sansa agreed. 

“That being said you owe me a manicure because I broke one of my nails beating that little curly haired fuck, and at least two shopping trips” Cersei paused. “The shopping is on me of course, but we have to get you some better clothes because this” the waved a hand at Sansa’s hospital gown. “This isn’t working.” 

“That’s unfortunate, I was thinking of buying some of these and wearing them around the house” Sansa looked down at her blue, faded hospital gown. 

“Sure, if you never want to get laid again” Cersei stopped with a grimace. “Okay, stop making me think about my brother’s dick. That’s disgusting.” 

“But it's such a _nice_ dick” Sansa smiled as Cersei finally approached the bed and sat on the edge. 

“For what it’s worth, I am very glad you’re alright” Cersei said, her tone suddenly serious. 

“Don’t get sentimental on me now” Sansa reached out to take her soon to be sister’s hand. “Next you’ll be talking about joint weddings and planning pregnancies at the same time so our kids can grow up together.” 

Cersei gave an exaggerated gag, “Don’t ever joke like that---though, could you imagine a joint wedding and Stannis having to watch you marry Jaime? His jaw would be able to cut glass.” 

“I knew it, you’re already talking about it” Sansa teased and Cersei laughed. 

“I’ve already informed Jaime that I do not intend to have children, and therefore require a large amount of nieces so that I can create my loyal army of supermodels.” 

“Sounds reasonable” Sansa agreed. “I mean, with my bone structure and Jaime’s coloring, they’d be fantastic.”

“Thank you!” Cersei announced, springing to her feet and crossing to the shopping bags. “Now, don’t get all excited on me, but I am going to help you bathe and get out out of those fucking awful gowns.” 

“You just want to see me naked” Sansa smiled. 

“Please” Cersei scoffed, setting some clothing onto the bed. 

“You bought me LuluLemon leggings? For a hospital stay?” 

“You have to look fashionable” Cersei reasoned. 

“Why?” 

“So Jaime can stop whimpering about you, for one. And because I am fairly certain that that slimy fuck Ned will show up at some point and I want you to look good and feel good for that.” 

At this, Sansa frowned deeply, “He’s been here?” 

“A few times” Cersei explained. “He looks like a beaten dog, which I think is a good look for a cheating milquetoast.”

“Did you make him cry?” Sansa laughed, her stomach twinging in pain. 

“No, but I can if you want” Cersei smirked and Sansa knew that Cersei would have far too much fun breaking Ned Stark. 

“Only if I can watch.” 

“I knew you were a freak” Cersei winked. “Now let’s get that cute nurse man in here and start sponging.”

Jaime had left Sansa in Yohn’s--and now likely Cersei’s care a few hours ago, allowing himself to run home and clean himself up. He shaved for the first time in weeks and pulled on fresh clothes, feeling more light-hearted than he had since the morning of the accident. 

While it might not be the most manly of things, he’d felt better after a good cry, laying in Sansa’s arms and finally able to let out all of the pent up emotion he’d been bottling deep down. After he’d finished and Yohn had rejoined them, all of them talked for quite a while before Sansa began to doze off again. 

It was easy to forget that she, a woman so vibrant and full of life, was still injured and recovering from an attack that had nearly taken her life. She was lucky--they were lucky, and he didn’t intend to waste a moment longer than he had to to get on with their life together. 

Bran and Tormund were down at the Lannisport Police station, both giving recorded statements to the detectives and preparing for the arrival of the she-hurricane, Catelyn Stark in the west. Jaime hadn’t given a statement yet, and was worried that if he happened to see either Catelyn or Brienne at the police station, he would lose control and strangle them both to death. 

Making the familiar way to the hospital room, he drew up short at the deep, familiar voice he heard coming from inside. 

“Thank you for visiting--and for the flowers, that was very kind” Sansa said, her tone cordial but not overly warm. 

“Of course” Stannis Baratheon’s voice replied. “I have heard updates, through the grapevine and through Robert, and I felt that I should allow your family to hover for sometime before I made my visit. Timing, as they say, is everything.” 

“It’s perfect timing, thank you” Sansa said and Jaime stepped into the doorway. Cersei noticed him first, giving him an exaggerated eye-roll and a crude gesture that made him smile. 

Looking to Sansa, he could see that Cersei had made good on her plan to clean Sansa up a bit, help her feel a little less dingy and a lot more presentable now that she was awake the majority of the time. Her hair was clean and simply plaited, the bandage nearly invisible now, and she wore black leggings that had been rolled up on her right leg to accommodate her cast and a burgundy athletic style jacket that was zipped all the way up. 

She looked radiant and so very alive that it made his chest ache. 

“Ah, Jaime” Stannis noted his arrival as he stepped into the room proper, and Sansa smiled over at him with a bouquet of sunflowers in her hands. 

“Stannis brought me flowers, Jaime” Sansa explained. “They’re very lovely.” 

“A small gesture, to be sure, but fitting for the visit” Stannis replied smoothing and Jaime briefly pictured beating the man with that same bouquet of sunflowers until his perfectly tailored overcoat was covered in yellow petals and pollen. 

“That was very nice” he said instead, making sure that his voice was perfectly polite. 

“I would also offer my congratulations on your engagement” Stannis said stiffly, offering his hand to Jaime, even as he clenched his jaw in unspoken frustration. “I hope that the accident hasn’t ruined your plans.” 

“Thank you, no, we’re all right on schedule” Jaime smirked, shaking the man’s hand. 

“Good to hear” Stannis said and Jaime felt the man’s hand tighten a second before he released his hand altogether. “Well, I shall leave you all to it then, just know Sansa, that my offer still stands,” he said, turning to smile back at Sansa. _Smile_, since when the fuck did Stannis Baratheon smile? 

“Thank you, Stannis” she replied with a smile and Jamie wanted to roll his eyes and it was only by the miracle of self-control that he didn’t. He watched as the taller man turned away and made his way back through the doorway, leaving him and Cersei along with Sansa once more. 

“Nice flowers” Jaime said. 

“They are” Sansa said plainly, raising a brow slightly in challenge. Oh yeah, she was feeling better. 

“How long was he here?” he asked and Sansa scoffed out a soft laugh. 

“Twenty minutes maybe” Cersei replied dryly. “He’s so boring.” 

“He isn’t boring, he’s just not Robert and therefore you don’t care” Sansa challenged and Cersei shrugged. 

“True” Cersei agreed. “Though still, imagine breaking the chains on that man's sexual repression? I imagine he’d be so dominating and---” 

“And that’s enough of that” Jaime glared at his twin, seeing Sansa’s giggles as she hid them behind her newly acquired sunflowers. “Here” he took the sunflowers from her hands and no matter how tempted he was to toss them in the garbage bin, he placed them in a vase with golden roses that his Father had brought. 

“Thank you” Sansa smiled as he returned to her side, kissing her softly. 

“I should have binned them” he muttered against her lips. 

“Hence, why I am thanking you.” 

“I love you” he whispered. 

“I love you too” she smiled, raising a hand to touch his newly clean shaven cheek. “The beard was rather sexy.” 

“Oh?” he smirked. “Like that grey and blonde look, do you?” 

“I do” she teased. “As long as it's you, I like any look.”

“Noted” he placed the bag he had almost forgotten he was carrying on the bed. 

“What’s that?” Sansa asked. 

“Sketchbook, pencils, charcoals and pastels” Jaime smiled. “Something to help pass the time in this place.”

“Thank you--oh it's lovely” she took the new sketchbook as he handed it to her, running her hand over the cover. He couldn’t help but notice that her left hand was still trembling and he wondered if the right, her dominant hand, had suffered the same effect. He had prayed to every God he could imagine to protect her, to keep her body from experiencing long-lasting effects of the attack and he could only hope, for her sake, that her drawing hand was untouched. “Thank you” she tilted her chin and he obeyed her silent request for a kiss, lingering for a brief moment until Cersei loudly cleared her throat. 

“Sod off” Jaime threw at his twin, who only laughed in response. 

“Please” Cersei laughed. “Spare me.” 

“You’re on my list” Jaime told her. 

“Me?” Cersei feigned innocence. 

“Next time Stannis shows up, it's your job to scare him away.” 

“Hey--” Sansa protested as Cersei laughed. 

“That man is unflappable, I can’t even imagine” Cersei reasoned. 

“He only brought flowers, Jaime” Sansa added. “And I am fully dressed.” 

“Much to his chagrin, I am sure” Jaime snarked. 

“I’m sure” Sansa rolled her eyes this time, relaxing back against the. “Your jealousy is giving me a headache.” 

“No, that’s the skull fracture, darling” Cersei interjected, grabbing her flask from her purse. 

“I want some” Sansa said, extending her hand to his sister and Jaime chuckled. 

“No” Cersei closed the top and tucked it away. “You’re on heavy duty pain medicine, no alcohol for you.” 

“But it sounds like such a party” Sansa pouted. 

“No” Cersei repeated. 

“Tease” Sansa spat at his sister. 

“You wish” Cersei replied, and Jaime could have basked in Sansa’s smile forever. She looked so beautiful, so happy, even with bruising on her forehead and stitches hidden by clean clothes, she was so damned beautiful. 

“Hey” Sansa took his hand, bringing his attention back to the present. “Did you sneak me any food?” 

Jaime laughed softly, “I bring you art supplies and you want food?”

“Can’t I have both?” she looked at him with those damned blue eyes and he had a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing to him. 

“Fine” he pulled a chocolate bar from the bag. “Don’t you tell a soul.” 

“Never” Sansa took it quickly, hiding it in her pocket. “I knew I loved you for a reason.” 

“Uh huh” he stole another kiss, ignoring his sister’s gag. “I love you too.”

Sansa watched Jaime and Cersei as they told stories of their childhood. Both of them helping to pass the time with absurd stories and anecdotes about stern father Tywin, which she could hardly imagine given the laid back man she knew. 

Still, it was nice to watch them laughing. Her head ached and her stomach felt like a knife was buried in the side, but she felt more aware than she had in a long time, able to drink in her surroundings and commit them to memory. 

“But what about the pest control man” Cersei laughed loudly and Sansa was glad for her private room. 

“Oh Gods, I think Tyrion is still scarred---” Jaime broke off abruptly, his eyes going to the doorway and when Sansa turned to see what had caught his attention, she was surprised---but not really since Cersei had warned her, to see Ned Stark standing there. 

Gods, Sansa instantly thought. He looked so much older than she imagined he would. 

“H-hello” he said, his voice bringing back a thousand childhood memories that she wished she could forget forever. “I am sorry to intrude, but I heard Sansa was awake and I---” be paused, turning to face her. “I was hoping to speak with you, if only for a few moments.” 

“Ned” Jaime stood, moving in front of him. 

“Jaime” Sansa said softly. “It’s okay. Better it be a bandaid, right?” she said quietly. 

“Yeah” he agreed with a frown. 

“Before you begin” Sansa turned her head to face the man who had fathered her but was never her Father. “Just know that our relationship, whatever it was, is over and after all of this is over, I am washing my hands of the Starks and the Stark name.” 

“I understand” he agreed softly, his face forming a horrible frown but she pushed his sadness away, he didn’t deserve her pity. 

“I plan to change my name to Sansa Royce while I plan my wedding, and when such time comes, I will be Sansa Lannister. Sansa Stark is dead. She died many years ago at the hand of Catelyn Stark.” 

“Sansa” Ned began but paused, thinking the better of his protest. “Al--alright.” 

“So tell me” Sansa steeled her shoulders, feeling Jaime’s hand slip into hers in a silent show of support. “Tell me about Jon Snow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so listen....just bear with me LOL


	21. Part 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I invite you to admire this AMAZING picset from 'birdebee' [HERE](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/190175827941/au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion-meets-his/)!
> 
> Possible tissue warning? Maybe. But our girl is the Queen and we can't deny it.
> 
> Mentions of abuse (in passing, no details), mentions of threats of child molestion (in GREAT passing) and mentions of infidelity (in passing, no details). And a surprise for you at the end.
> 
> Thank you all (again) for your love and support of this story! I have never written anything like it, nor anything this long, and I cannot tell you what your support means.

Sansa sat in the chair beside the window in her hospital room, staring out into the landscape beyond her sterile, cold room, her mind completely lost in thought. Sitting up wasn’t the most comfortable position, but she was tired of being trapped in the bed and Jaime had helped her to the chair on the condition that her leg be elevated. 

She couldn’t have agreed fast enough. 

Beside her in silence, sat Jaime--her fiance and the man who had stood by her through all the bullshit of the past several months. Even she was overwhelmed by it all and she couldn’t help but wonder at what point would he run screaming form her, too. 

A glance to his profile showed he looked as perturbed by the conversation with her father as she had. Which was a good thing, she supposed. It had been fucked, absolutely fucked...

_ “Tell me about Jon Snow. Tell me about your bastard son,” Sansa asked and she saw the weight settle on Ned’s shoulders. Silently he crossed to the last vacant chair in the room which was beside Cersei and the moment he sat beside her, she sprang to her feet._

_ “I’ll be back” Cersei glared down at Ned and Sansa could feel the fury rolling off of the golden woman. “Figured I should excuse myself before I do something rash--like beat you to death with an IV stand” she glared at Ned and with a swirl of golden curls, swept from the room._

_ Sansa almost wished she could have seen that._

_ Ned sat in silence for several moments, staring at his hands before he began, “I met his Mother in town and I was instantly taken with her. She was an artist--a painter, and--” _

_ “Oh my Gods” Sansa choked out, turning away from him and closing her eyes for several seconds. It didn't take much for her brain--bruised as it was, to put those pieces together. _

_ “I know” Ned frowned and sighed deeply. “I loved her--or believed that I did. She was so unlike Catelyn. Vibrant, happy and free-spirited. But when she fell pregnant, I panicked. I knew if Catelyn found out that she would lose her mind and the fallout would be monumental. So I did what I could, gave her money, took her to see her doctors in secret and then, the day Catelyn told me she was also pregnant, I...fuck…” That was the first time in memory that she had ever heard Ned Stark curse, the word seemed foreign coming from his lips. _

_ “And?” Sansa prompted when he fell silent once more. _

_ “And Catelyn lost her mind” Ned continued, looking up from his hands to meet her eyes. “She threw china across the room. She threatened to kill her. She would talk about how she was giving me a legitimate son, a true Stark and not some filthy bastard. Things were bad, but they were so much worse when she found out the child she carried was a girl. A daughter and not the legitimate second son she’d promised. You and Jon were both born three days apart, Jon looked just like Robb but you---Gods, you were so beautiful. Even from the start.”_

_ “And a clone of my Mother” Sansa said sadly. _

_ “Catelyn saw you as a chance to fix all the problems she had in her life” Ned explained. “But as you grew older, as you started to draw and paint, all she saw was a reminder of the woman that I had taken into my bed.” _

_ Sansa felt sick, even going so far as to cover her mouth with her hand as her mouth began to sweat. In an instant, Jaime’s hand was over hers, his deep voice in her ear._

_ “Don’t puke--you have stitches in your stomach wall, the pain would be unbearable and you can’t afford to rip your stitches. Breathe, just breathe, baby” he whispered and she turned her face into Jaime’s neck, breathing in the soft scent of his cologne and their laundry detergent, letting it soothe her for several minutes. Jaime smelled like home, like happiness and it did wonders for her rolling stomach. _

_ “The guilt I felt was immense” Ned’s voice reached her but she didn’t look back to him. “I had made so many mistakes, it was paralysing.” _

_ “So you stood by” Sansa turned back to him. “You stood by and you watched her torture me, for what? Guilt? Fear? She was--is a monster.” _

_ “I tried everything I could without making everything public” Ned assured her. “I knew that if things hit the society news, it would all get worse and I worried that something would happen to you---” _

_ “Bullshit” Sansa interrupted. “I call bullshit. You were covering your own ass.”_

_ “I convinced your Mother to let you spend summers with Yohn” Ned continued. “I told her that it would give her time to focus on the boys, time to focus on summer parties and I--”_

_ “I don’t want to hear anymore” Sansa cut him off, waving her trembling hand at him. “I am not going to feel pity for you--or pity for my viper of a Mother, I am not going to feel guilty for being born. I had no say in that and I didn’t deserve the abuse I received because of the condition of your marriage. Or lack thereof.”_

_ “I do love you Sansa” he cut in. “I just didn’t know how to show that love without hurting everyone else.”_

_ “So instead I received all the hurt” she nodded. “Right. Easier to let a little girl suffer than take your balls out of Catelyn Stark’s handbag and man up. Easier to let me believe that my parents, people who should have loved me no matter what, hated me! Easier to let Catelyn Stark hire your bastard to burn down my apartment.” _

_ “I am very sorry” Ned said simply. _

_ “So am I” Sansa scoffed. “You should have just done the right thing and let Yohn--my Father, raise me.”_

_ “I tried” Ned admitted. “Yohn offered you a home on several occasions. He wanted to take you with him but Catelyn threatened to go to the police, to tell them that Yohn was molest--” _

_ “You finish that sentence and I swear to the Gods I will get out of this bed and will not be responsible for what I do” Sansa cut him off, fury bubbling to life in her blood, overpowering the hurt and pain. _

_ “I’m sorry” Ned repeated and Sansa was done. Just done. _

_ “Get him out of here. I’m done” she told Jaime softly, relaxing back into the pillows with a barely concealed whimper of pain. _

_ “Alright” Jaime agreed, kissing her forehead quickly before crossing to where Ned sat. “Come on, Ned.”_

_ “Right” Ned reluctantly stood. Sansa felt him looking her way but she refused to meet his eyes, he didn’t deserve that acknowledgement. Ned Stark was, as far as she was concerned, a sperm donor and no longer had a place in her life. The hurt he had caused her--had allowed to be done unto her, was more than she would ever forget--or forgive. _

_ She heard their footsteps as they exited the room and went back into the hall. The silence of the room was overwhelming and a few minutes later she heard shouting and swearing echoing down the hall. Sansa lifted her head to look to the doorway just as Cersei entered the room, her hair tangled as she examined her nails._

_ The woman looked up with a smug smile, “Didn’t break a nail, this time” she confirmed and Sansa smiled, laying back against the pillows, trying to forget the conversation that had just occurred._

“I used to think it was me” she said after several long minutes of silence. “That I somehow wasn’t enough.” At this, Jaime turned to look at her, watching her intently with those sharp emerald eyes of his. “That because I didn’t look Northern, I wasn’t really a Stark” she shook her head. 

“San…”

“But I’m not a Stark” she continued. “Not because of my red hair or my blue eyes, no, I am not a Stark because I am nothing like them.” 

“You’re a Royce” he assured her, reaching out to cover her hand with his, both of them resting on the arm of her chair. “And soon, you’ll be a Lannister too.” 

“I used to hate them” she closed her eyes, willing back tears. “I guess I still do but I---I’m done. I’m done with them, all of them.” 

“Which is understandable” he agreed. 

“Done with Arya. Done with Robb. All of them.” 

“And Bran?” Jaime prompted. 

She swallowed a lump in her throat, a few tears spilling onto her cheeks, “I can’t help but wonder that if Bran hadn’t had nowhere else to go--if he had gone to Tormund instead of Yohn, would he have ever looked for me at all?” 

“Sansa” Jaime frowned and she shook her head, blinking away tears. 

“None of them ever bothered” she gave a watery laugh, crying out as her stomach protested in pain and in a flash, Jaime was kneeling before her chair, her broken leg against his shoulder. “They never even bothered, it was easier to let me be a punching bag than to grow spines…” 

“I know” he held her hands, raising her palms to his lips. “They were so caught up in their lives, and in Catelyn and Ned’s influences, they never bothered. But Bran did come to you” he explained. “He didn’t run to his Wildling Man-Friend, he went to you, and that has to count for something, right?” 

“I don’t know” she replied honestly, leaning back in the chair in an attempt to get comfortable. It didn’t work, everything hurt. “I was nothing but a reminder of Ned Stark’s infidelity, that’s all I was. I wasn’t a daughter or a human, I was just a reminder.” 

“You are a daughter” Jaime promised. “To Tywin Lannister and to Yohn Royce, you _are_ a daughter. One who is loved, greatly. The Starks may share your blood, but they have no stake in your heart. Family isn’t always about blood, Sansa.” 

“I know” she cupped his face with her hands, trying to muster up the best smile she could. “It just doesn’t help with the sting.” 

“Nothing will” Jaime sadly agreed. 

“It may always be a twinge” Sansa softly repeated Yohn’s words of wisdom. “Just a twinge.” 

“This is everything I have on Catelyn Stark” Addam laid everything out on the table at Tywin Lannister’s penthouse apartment. Yohn and Tywin watched as the man laid out photographs, credit card statements and text messages, all of them tying Catelyn Stark to Jon Snow and the fire in Lannisport. “I was also able to find Jon Snow’s mother and her information.” 

“Pretty damning” Tywin ‘tsked’ his teeth as he looked over everything. Addam was a distant cousin of his and a damned good sleuth. He knew sending Addam to find all that he could on Catelyn Stark, was the right choice to make and it had proved correct. He was, admittedly, rather impressed. 

“It shows things in a new light, that’s for sure” Yohn picked up a photo of a pretty, young dark-haired woman who was standing beside a large painting, visibly pregnant. “If Jon’s mother was an artist, it would only serve to fuel Catelyn’s hatred.” 

“The woman certainly made enemies as easily as bees make honey” Addam chuckled. “It was hard to find someone in town who would speak a cordial word about her.” 

“Did you find someone?” 

“No” Addam smirked. “The closest I got was a caterer calling her ‘particular’. They’re all afraid of her.” 

“She’s nothing but a bully” Tywin explained. “And I hate bullies.” 

“So do I. Especially when they bully my girl” Yohn added and Tywin turned the man in agreement. “So what do we do?” 

“Hit her in the back of the head with a shovel and bury her in a shallow grave?” Yohn suggested and Tywin couldn’t help but smile, he very much liked Yohn Royce. He was a good man, honest and loyal.

“I can do you one better” Addam grabbed a folder on the table and opened it up, pulling out more photos and this time, a police report. “It was written, but never filed. The only reason I found it is because my fingers suddenly became sticky while walking through the Wintertown Police offices at 3am.”

“What is this?” 

“Catelyn Stark has a not-so-little problem with alcohol” Addam explained. “Nothing exciting in its own, other than her car was totalled last year under suspicious circumstances. Insurance repaired it but they never did look into the fact that a hit and run occurred that same night. Wintertown detectives, Umber and Glover, worked together to bury the report. Which is why I recommended you send Lannisport Detectives to arrest her.” 

"Just so" Tywin agreed. "That worked out in our favor."

“Hit and run?” Yohn asked. 

“A sixteen year old girl driving home from a friend’s house” Addam grabbed the last sheet in the folder. “Whose family received a hefty sum from Catelyn’s private account a short while later.” 

“She’s a murderer” Yohn whispered, looking at the twisted wreckage of the young girl’s car that was attached to the coroner's report.

“A drunk and a murderer” Tywin agreed. 

“There’s enough here to blow a hole in the entire North” Addam assured him. “You already know why Bran left. The other son, Rickon, has the same problems as his mother. Though these days he puts most of his allowance up his nose. Robb is already cheating on his wife, Roslin, and Arya is carrying on a rather intimate friendship with her friend, Meera.” 

“Gods” Tywin choked on a laugh. “Disowns one son for being gay and her daughter does the same under her nose.” 

“Arya is an equal opportunity lover” Addam suggested. “If you get my drift. Her husband enjoys watching. He’s a big fucker too, gets his kicks on those two.” 

“Fucking Hells” Yohn explained, sinking into the closest chair. “What a mess.” 

“We should take this to Sansa” Tywin decided. “Let her read it all and tell us what she would like.” 

“She’ll say to burn it all down” Yohn sighed, shaking his head. 

“If that is what she wishes, then we will” Tywin agreed, turning back to Yohn. “And Brienne?” 

“I am still working on her full workup” Addam replied. “I should have that to you by weeks end. Lannisport Police are friends of mine, obviously, and she will be held without bail given her mental state. There is no need to worry, she is safely tucked away.” 

“Catelyn will have arrived in Lannisport by now” Tywin added. “Make sure she stays locked up too.” 

“I can call in favors” Addam said. 

“I can call Thoros, too” Yohn set the papers back down on the table. “He already knows that the woman Brienne tried to kill is my daughter and he’s made sure that her time in lockup is far from enjoyable.” 

“Yohn” Tywin chuckled. “You dirty bastard you. And you didn’t tell me?” 

“Father’s prerogative” Yohn smirked. “It didn’t seem fair that Sansa was lying comatose in a hospital bed and Brienne had three warm meals and a nice bed to sleep in.” 

“Your logic is, as always, undeniable.” 

“I am glad you agree” Yohn nodded. “I am content to let Brienne Tarth sit in the psych-ward with a twin-sized cot, no sheets, no elastic, no paper and cold cheese sandwiches for as long as we need to.” Tywin’s laughter filled the room and Yohn continued. “After all, it would be terrible if she killed herself before we could drag her to trial.” 

“Terrible indeed.”

“What the devil have you been up to?” Robert asked, gently taking her hand in his, looking at the bruised and swollen knuckles with a frown. 

“I might have hit someone” Cersei said flippantly and Robert’s frown deepened. “Fine, two people.” 

“Going to take on every Stark you meet?” Robert asked, guiding her closer and Cersei let him, effectively trapping herself between Robert’s large frame and the kitchen counter. 

“If I have to” she promised, raising her chin in defiance. 

They’d been seeing each other for well over a year now, both of them certain at the start of all this that their lust would burn out shortly and then they could move on. Nearly 18-months later, and they were still waiting for that to happen and it terrified her that it might never happen. 

Robert Baratheon wasn’t the man she had pictured herself getting attached to; certainly not when she was a little girl who idolized the film actor Rhaegar Targaryen with his white-blonde hair and violet eyes. But Robert had a certain charm that made her simultaneously roll her eyes and laugh in spite of herself, at the same time. 

Like all Baratheon’s he was large, but where his brother’s were lean, Robert spent his youth playing football and his frame reflected that. Sure he had a little extra weight at his midsection, but the man had the strength of an ox and put it to damn good use. 

“You should put ice on that” Robert nodded to her hand. 

“I like the ache, reminds me of the little cunts I put in their place” Cersei replied, flexing her sore fingers and Robert groaned, moving closer to bring their bodies flush together. 

“You’re a firebrand” he whispered, leaning down from his great height to burrow his face into her hair. 

“I’m a bitch, there’s a difference” she chuckled, trying to brush off the lust and warmth in his deep blue eyes. 

“Yes, but you're my b--” Robert’s words cut off when she roughly grabbed his half-hard cock through his slacks. 

“Finish that word and you won’t like what happens” she purred against his bearded cheek, biting into the flesh there and his answering growl was nearly feral. Being the big, sturdy man he was, he certainly loved being at her mercy and she loved it when he begged. 

“Fuck, Cersei” he groaned when her grip softened and she stroked his length before slipping away. 

“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” she crossed to his fridge with a flippant tone. “I have to be back at the hospital tomorrow, but I--- Fuck!” she screamed out when she suddenly found herself over Robert’s massive shoulder, his long legs carrying her to the master bedroom. Her cry of surprise turned into laughter, her blonde hair covering her face and getting her her mouth as he hauled her like a sack of potatoes-- a lamb to the slaughter. 

Gods, she couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given that everyone is 100% in love with Cersei, I gave you a little Cersei/Robert at the end, just to add a bit of light hearted fluff to the chapter. Who'd have thought that those two would bring the fluff. Not to mention, by the way, I am living for how much you want them in their own one shot. I love it!!


	22. Part 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little vignettes as the plot moves toward its conclusion. Also added in some prison details, since y'all seemed interested in that. I am hoping to wrap up the criminality section of this soon, but want to make sure I do it justice. 
> 
> Just know that the HEA is out there on the horizon. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me! I hope you're still enjoying this piece!
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the delay on this, I meant to finish it sooner but....Henry Cavill. 'The Witcher' has ruined me, and I cannot...

_A few days ago…_

“So let me get this straight” Detective Lieutenant Roose Bolton said sitting across from Jon Snow, the man they’d taken into custody upon his arrival at Lannisport Police Station. When a man as powerful as Tywin Lannister walks in with a man taking responsibility for arson, the chief makes sure that his senior-most detective is placed on the case. 

Hence why he was sitting here listening to who is possibly the stupidest man in recent history, speak. 

“Your father’s wife calls you out of the blue--a woman who has made no secret about her hatred of you, tells you a sob story and you burn down an apartment--nearly an entire apartment building, without checking her information?” Roose repeated and the boy nodded. Roose scoffed and looked to where the chief fire investigator, Justin Massey, stood shaking his head. 

“That’s right” Jon said. “She had the money and I stupidly believed her.”

“I am curious about one thing” Roose replied. “How in the seven hells did you become an arson investigator in the first place?” 

“I had a knack for it” Jon said simply. 

“I admit” Massey spoke from the corner. “I was impressed by the simplicity of your incendiary device. Small enough to slip under the door and efficient enough to burn up completely. I haven’t seen anything so ingenious since the Orr fires.” 

“Like I said, I had a knack for it,” Jon said, not an ounce of pride in his voice. 

“Are you willing to give a written statement and testify in open court against Catelyn Stark?” Roose asked. 

“Yes” Jon nodded. “That is why I came here. I knew it was the right thing to do, given the circumstances.”

“The right thing to do would be to have not started the fire in the first place” Massey smirked. 

“I thought I was protecting my sister” Jon whispered. 

“Here” Roose pulled a large notepad from his briefcase and set it on the table along with a pen. “Write down everything. Even if you think the details aren’t important, write them anyway.” 

“We’ll speak with the district attorney about your cooperation” Massey added, smoothing a hand through his bright blonde hair. To look at him, you wouldn’t imagine that Massey was the sharpest mind in arson investigation in the realm. He looked young, innocent and damn near cherubic, aside from his massive frame. But he and his team were the best, making Roose grateful that he was on his team for this case. 

“Thank you” Jon said, picking up the pen. 

“And Jon?” Roose said as he stood. “No more fires, eh?” 

“No” Jon gave a sardonic laugh before turning his attention to the papers.

_Present Day_

“That tickles” she smiled, watching Jaime as he worked.

“Hush,” he chided her, focused completely on his task. “I don’t know how you women do this” he frowned deeply. 

“Steady hands” Sansa reasoned, her eyes unable to look away from where Jaime was hard at work. She had complained yesterday how ugly her foot looked in the cast, wiggling her toes for emphasis, and today Jaime had shown up with a bottle of bright red nail polish, determined to ‘spruce her up’, as he said. 

Now, she was laying against the horrible hospital pillows as Jaime painted her toenails. He was a unique man, her Jaime. He had gone above and beyond the past few days--no, weeks, and she had no idea how another woman hadn’t snatched him up before now. The frog phone perhaps, she smiled to herself, made him absolutely irresistible. 

Speaking of which, according to both Jaime and Tywin, the media had begun to camp outside of the hospital entrances and exits. Word had hit the press that the woman behind the ‘#wheressansa’ campaign had been hit by a car and gossip was running rampant. A jealous lover? Love triangle? Pure rage? Inquiring minds wanted to know. Not to mention, someone had leaked news of _the_ Jaime Lannister’s engagement and everyone wanted more details. 

“How’s that?” Jaime asked as he examined his work, looking at her big toe with pride. 

“Perfect” Sansa smirked. “You know, I’d say you have a pretty promising back-up career, here.” 

“Yeah, right” Jaime scoffed, turning his attention to her other foot. “I’ve never done this in my life, I have no idea what I am doing.” 

“Turning my toes Lannister red, what else?” Sansa smiled, relaxing against the pillows, observing her fiance as his large hands daintily painted her toes. 

“Here’s to hoping my father doesn't’ walk in” Jaime smirked, re-wetting the brush in the bottle and returning to work. 

“Why? Tywin can’t recognize when someone is taking care of their partner?” 

“I am sure the Great Lion would be apoplectic at the sight of our impromptu pedicure” Jaime reasoned. 

“I don’t know” Sansa countered. “I bet that your Dad is a man that knows how to take care of his woman.” 

“I don’t even remotely want to think about that, Stark” Jaime frowned, turning back to her. “Stark doesn’t really fit, does it?” 

“Not anymore, no” she agreed softly. 

“Royce then? Or maybe Lannister?” he suggested. 

“Lannister works” Sansa smiled at him from her position on the pillow. 

“Damn right it does” he blew her a quick kiss and returned to work, painting the bright red across the rest of her toes. 

“We brought coffee and snacks--oh!” Tormund’s laughter trailed off as he watched Jaime painting Sansa’s pinky-toe. “My turn next?” 

“Dream on” Jaime scoffed and Bran shook his head at Tormund as he entered, carrying a small bag of food. 

“I missed the mani-pedi party” Tormund pouted, setting the tray of coffee cups on the side table. “At least he picked a decent color, eh?” he winked as Sansa and she couldn’t help but smile at Bran’s Wildling Man-Friend. Tormund was one of the funniest men she had ever met, and one of the most loyal. 

She had a chance to speak with him a few days ago and he expressed his guilt over not spotting Brienne’s car earlier. He had been asked to protect her and he felt that he had failed. Sansa had shaken her head, assuring him that Brienne was determined enough to hurt her regardless of protection and security.

Tormund had seemed reluctant to accept this explanation, but Sansa did her best to cheer him up. It wasn’t as if he could stop a speeding car, she reasoned. No human could, regardless of strength. And if it wasn’t a car, it would have been something else; there was no stopping a mad-woman hellbent on destruction. 

Still, she was reserved when it came to Bran. As much as she was overjoyed to have one of her siblings back in her life, she couldn’t help but feel like she was a last resort. This, of course, was a lingering effect of the fact that she had been nothing more than a reminder of infidelity to her parents. An unwanted daughter and an unpleasant reminder. 

She wasn’t the image of Ned Stark, like Arya was, and she wasn’t the son that her mother wanted. She was nothing to them, and now, they were nothing to her---no, that wasn’t true, she frowned, hiding her face into the pillow. 

She was a target to Catelyn Stark. 

“There” Jaime triumphantly declared and she turned from the stiff pillow to admire his imperfectly perfect handiwork. 

“Perfect” Sansa smiled as he closed and tightened the cap on the polish. “No more boring cast-foot” she wiggled her bright red toes. 

“See, I could have been a painter” Jaime set the polish aside and turned to kiss her. 

“Yes, you could have” she said as she returned his kiss, wishing more than anything that her body was able to return his affections properly. She wanted nothing more than to escape this hell-hole of a hospital, go home and spend weeks in bed with Jaime. She was tired of the nurses, of this hard ‘mattress’, and as much as she loved all of them, she missed peace and quiet. Missed the serenity of painting. She longed for the bed she shared with Jaime, the kitchen where they cooked and the quiet, soft ambiance of their own sanctuary. 

“Can I have a sip?” she asked as Jaime picked a coffee cup from the tray. 

“A small one” Jaime handed her the cup and she took a small sip, letting the warm brew fill her senses for a brief moment before she swallowed it. 

“Thank you” she handed him the cup. 

“I’d offer you more, but…” he frowned at the food Tormund had shoved into his hand. 

“My surgeon would murder you” Sansa finished for him, pouting at the memory of the heavly scarred surgeon that had visited them earlier that day. 

_ “Ms. Stark” the deep, gruff voice greeted as one of the largest men she had ever seen entered her room. _

_ “I’m sorry, I don’t….” she desperately tried to place him but failed miserably. She would have easily remembered this man, not only because of the horrible scars along the side of his face, but because he had to duck to enter the hospital room and he seemed broader than any athlete she had ever seen._

_ “Dr. Clegane” he offered, sensing her confusion. “You probably don’t remember me, I was the one who operated on you the night of your arrival.” _

_ “Oh” she smiled at the dark man. “That makes sense. I am sorry I don’t remember. Thank you for--well, whatever you did. Thank you.” _

_ “You’re welcome. There is no reason you should remember me, so there is no need to apologize” he assured her. “You were unconscious for our entire encounter” he said, grabbing her chart and flipping through the pages of notes. “It says here that you’d been out of bed?” _

_ “For a little while, yes” Sansa admitted. “I was so uncomfortable and Jaime carried me to the chair.” _

_ “Jaime?” Dr. Clegane looked to where Jaime was sitting beside her bed. _

_ “The fiance” Jaime said plainly and Dr. Clegane only nodded in acknowledgement. Sansa almost smiled at the cold edge in Jaime’s voice. Oh, her handsome lion, he was such a subtly (sometimes not so subtly) possessive man, it made her heart warm._

_ “If you could lift your jacket” Dr. Clegane asked and Sansa followed his instruction unzipping the jacket that Cersei had brought her to reveal her sports bra and the incision on her side._

_ Dr. Clegane looked at it for several seconds, even went as far to touch her stitches with a gloved hand for a brief moment before he pulled back and cleared his throat, “Everything looks like it is healing nicely. I would highly recommend, nearly insist, that you lay down as much as possible, Ms. Stark” Dr. Clegane said firmly. “The tear was more than a simple hernia repair.” _

_ “I will do what I can” Sansa said honestly. “But this bed is awful.” _

_ His expression softened, “I understand” he said and she believed him. The scars on his face told her that he had spent more than his share of time in hospital beds. Stepping away and tucking her chart back into the bin on the wall he continued, “But it is an important repair nonetheless. So be gentle on your stomach, stick to soft foods and whatnot. How are you feeling otherwise?”_

_ “You mean aside from being hit by a car?” Sansa scoffed and it was clear that Dr. Clegane was not prepared for her flippant sarcasm. “I am alright, thank you. I just want to go home” she said, her tone more serious that it had been before. _

_ “I understand the sentiment, but your injuries were serious” he reminded her and Sansa felt her hackles bristle. _

_ “I understand that they were series **Dr. Clegane**, but I also understand that my apartment was also burned down and I just want to go home and sleep.” _

_ Dr. Clegane looked to Jaime who gave a small nod and then back to her with a sad smile, “Fire tends to take all it wants and leaves nothing for those who stand in its wake” he cleared his throat. “You’ll be taken for another scan this afternoon, I want to make sure that everything is healing internally as it should. From there we can determine how long you have to stay. Provided, of course, your brain scans are also in range.” _

_ “Of course” Sansa sighed in reluctant agreement. _

_ “Traumatic brain injuries are a delicate thing” Dr. Clegane reminded her. _

_ “Like I don’t know” Sansa frowned, lifting her left hand that was still visibly trembling. “Will this go away?” she asked. _

_ “I can’t honestly say. The brain isn’t my area of expertise” Dr. Clegane admitted, his grey eyes soft and full of remorse. “The brain is a fickle thing and there are many nuances that medical science still doesn’t understand.” _

_ “Yeah,” Sansa frowned and tucked her hand beneath her on the bed. “Fuck load of good that does me” she sighed and Dr. Clegane looked to Jaime, confusion evident in his eyes. _

_ “Sansa is a painter” Jaime explained and Dr. Clegane’s frown only grew deeper. “She is right-handed but any tremor is a bad tremor.” _

_ “I understand” Dr. Clegane nodded. “I will speak with the neurologist and see what his opinions are.” _

_ “Thank you” Sansa said sincerely. “Sorry I am a crab, but still, thank you.” _

_ “You’re most welcome” Dr. Clegane assured her, turning towards the door and slipping back into the hall. _

“The big fucker was here?” Tormund asked, plopping into a chair beside Bran.

“Yeah, a little while ago” Jaime explained. “A few more scans will tell them when we can smuggle this one out of here” he motioned to Sansa with his head and she smirked. 

“Just smuggle me now” she pleaded. 

“Not yet” he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Soon.”

“Sept then home?” she teased. 

“Sept then home” he laughed, looking up as Yohn, Tywin and another lean man with ruddy hair entered the room. He didn't know why, but his stomach immediately turned, fear coursing through him. He looked to his father and he could see something in the Great Lion's eyes that was usually kept locked away, sadness. Sadness and anger...oh no.

“Stay on the yellow line---” 

“Do you know who I am?!”

“Yes, but I don’t give a shit” Roose pinched the bridge of his nose, doing all that he could to keep himself from taping her mouth shut. Cruel and unusual, cruel and unusual, he reminded himself over and over. 

“I am _Catelyn Stark_!” she continued, stepping back over the yellow line painted on the floor. It was meant, in a perfect world, to help control the environment, keeping prisoners away from the officers and creating a barrier. Jails, prisons and prisoner transportation were inherently dangerous, and ensuring the safety of officers was paramount. Hence the yellow line. 

A yellow line this woman was ignoring. 

Just like she ignored everything else. 

“Behind the yellow line” he repeated, grabbing her upper arm and guiding her back behind the line.

“Listen, you--Officer!” she screeched.

“Lieutenant” he corrected, never raising his voice despite the urge to scream in her face. He was known at Lannisport Police for being unflappable, always calm and collected, and in rare cases this only served to key up prisoners. Which is what it was doing to Catelyn fucking Stark who wasn’t getting her way. 

“I don’t care what your rank is! I am going to have you fired!” she threatened and he chuckled, shaking his head. 

“You can try, but you can’t buy cops in Lannisport. This isn’t podunk Wintertown” he countered. 

“How dare you--” she stepped forward and he was now one hundred percent done with this bitch. 

“Alright” he grabbed her arm, ignoring her enraged screeched as he escorted her the rest of the way down the hall. They had initially placed her in a community cell with two other women, but to his surprise, the other women begged to be placed far away from this ‘rich bitch’, as they called her. 

“Unhand me!” she yelled as they passed by Officer Reyne, who only shook his head. “I want my lawyer!”

“Funny, that is where we’ve been going this entire time” Roose stated simply, rounding the final corner to the interview room. Inside, Rickard Karstark was waiting, and thankful Catelyn’s screaming ceased when she spotted him. 

“Oh, Rickard--you have to get me out of here!” she demanded as Roose deposited her into a chair and attached her handcuffs to the anchor on the table. As he stepped back, Roose looked to Rickard Karstark whose expression was that of unamusement and surprise. 

“Good luck” Roose said to him, leaving Catelyn with her lawyer and stepping into the attached room, watching but not hearing as she screamed at him. 

“What a bitch” Detective Wolkan chuckled, handing Roose a cup of stale coffee that smelt a little burnt. 

“Tell me about it” Roose agreed, leaning against the wall beside the one way mirror. 

“She the one that tried to kill her kid?” Wolkan shook his head. “Used her husband’s bastard to start the fire from what I hear.” 

“Some people have more money than brains” Roose agreed, turning to his files on the desk and looking through the photographs. “What a fucking mess. First her apartment burns down, then Sansa Stark is run down by a crazed ex-coworker” he lifted the photograph of Sansa in her hospital bed, the detailed photos of her injuries still resting in the file. “I am going to the hospital tomorrow to talk with Sansa Stark, she’s awake and coherent now, from what I am told.”

“Unrelated to the fire?” Wolkan asked, taking the photo with a grimace. “Fuck that looks painful.” 

“Yeah” Roose nodded. 

“You have Tarth, right?” 

“She’s being held in psych” Roose explained. 

“Psych?” 

“Myr’s orders” Roose shrugged.

“I am thinking that it could be beneficial to place these two next to each other, Tarth and Stark” Wolkan suggested. 

“In the hopes of accomplishing what? They try to out-psycho each other?” 

“They incriminate themselves” Wolkan reasoned. “If they realize they hate the same woman, they’re bound to have a dick measuring contest--er, proverbially of course.”

“Can’t be too sure on the blonde one” Roose smirked as he sipped his coffee. 

“I’ll talk to Myr, if you think it is sound” Wolkan set the photo back in the file. 

“I think it could work, there’s no real expectation of privacy and no confidentiality” Roose shrugged. “Once we have the full arson investigation report from Massey we can move forward with Snow and Stark. Tarth is fairly straightforward, I got statements from everyone there. Rental car sort of gives it away as premeditated.” 

“Well, you know what they say” Wolkan chuckled. 

“What’s that?”

“We never catch the _smart_ ones.”

Brienne was sitting in the corner of her cell, her back against the cold stone walls as she stared out the barred wall across the room. She’d been here for what already felt like weeks, the sounds of the other women in the black driving her mad. 

The concrete walls and floor didn’t absorb sound and the linoleum seemed to carry echoes of coughs, sneezes and bathroom visits through all hours of the night. 

She had only a simple cot and no personal items, her earlier ranting having landed her in the psychiatric block where she was constantly watched for self-destructive or destructive behavior. 

This was Sansa’s fault, she told herself. Sansa had driven her to this--forced her to this, and somehow she would pay for that. 

They hadn’t told Brienne if Sansa was alive or not, but the simple fact that her charges hadn’t been changed from attempted vehicular homicide to vehicular homicide, told her that the btich had managed to live. She thought for sure when Sansa hit the concrete and didn’t move, that she had managed to succeed in ridding the world of her. 

Better luck next time, Brienne frowned.

She wondered, for the millionth time, how Jaime was. The last time she saw him leaving his offices, his hair had been longer and she rather liked the way it hung across his forehead. It looked dashing and rakish. It would be her one regret in all this, that she hadn’t had occasion to run her hands through his golden hair.

The screeching buzz of the alarm and then the slide of the barred cell block entrance told her that someone was coming, and as footsteps grew closer she leaned forward in time to see a guard walk by, a muttering woman in handcuffs beside him. 

Brienne hated her instantly, for no reason other than the bright red of her hair that reminded her of the very reason she was sitting in this hell hole. 

She listened as the guards placed her in the cell beside her to lock her in, and when the guard walked back down the block to the main door, Brienne found herself standing and moving to the bars. 

The woman was still muttering, ranting nearly, and Brienne took a deep breath before speaking. 

“Charges?” 

Several moments passed and she heard the woman moving to the bars, “Conspiracy to commit arson, among other things. You?” 

“Attempted murder” Brienne said. “But it wasn’t my fault.” 

“Same” the woman replied. There was a long silence and Brienne hung her head.

“Fucking Sansa Stark” both women spoke at the same time, and then an eerie silence filled the block.


	23. Part 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homeward bound! I am thinking I need to make another picset soon, y'all have earned it...hmm.... 
> 
> I am so glad everyone was happy to see Roose join the all-star lineup! :D I just love him to pieces as a salty detective who gives zero fucks. 
> 
> Mentions of child abuse. As which is a bit of the norm in this fic. Heads up.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Sansa watched Tywin Lannister as he settled into the chair Jaime had vacated a short while ago. She could tell by the somber expression on his face that he had something of importance to relay to her. At some point she hoped that she would be done with serious conversations for a while. They were giving her a headache….well, sort of.

Beside him sat Yohn and behind them stood another man, one they had introduced as Addam Marbrand, a private investigator. He was tall and lean, with copperish colored hair that he kept in a queue at the base of his skull. She had never seen him before, but he seemed an honest sort of man, with expressive eyes.

In Tywin’s lap was a large stack of file folders and envelopes, ones that made her think of legal documents from true crime shows and a chill skittered across the nape of her neck. 

Jaime didn’t look surprised at the news that Tywin had hired a man to look into her family, after all, he had told her that he had connections he could use to do the same shortly after the fire. She had simply forgotten, in the chaos, that such a man even existed. 

Now, they were all staring at her with sadness and perhaps a bit of resignation, and she wondered just what Addam had unearthed in the North. 

“Before we begin, know that this information has not been brought to the police yet” Tywin explained. “While it is very likely they will uncover it themselves--as Detective Bolton seems surprisingly competent, this report includes things that will likely go missed or unchecked.” 

“Alright” Sansa took a deep breath as Jaime sat beside her on the bed. He interlaced their fingers, palm to palm, and she felt his silent show of strength and support reinforcing her nerves. “I’m ready. Tell me everything.” 

Roose made his way through the bustle of the hospital, following the directions the nurse had given him until he reached the private--somewhat secluded room that held Sansa Stark. It paid to be attached to the Lannisters, he scoffed at the spacious room and additional visitor’s chairs. They did nothing in half measure, and certainly not hospital stays. 

There were, however, no visitors. Instead, he was met with the sight of Sansa Stark standing on a single leg in the window, leaning against the wall for balance as she looked out over the city. 

He knocked on the open door and she turned to look at him, wiping her cheeks quickly. Despite her injuries and the blotchy-red of her face, she was still stunning. He hadn’t been prepared for that, for her to be so powerfully beautiful that he nearly forgot why he was here. 

“Hello?” she asked, clearing her throat to conceal the last of her tears. Carefully she turned to face him, leaning heavily on the wall and he had to suppress the urge to rush to her side to balance her. 

_This is no time for White Knights_ he scolded himself.

“Miss. Stark, my name is Detective Lieutenant Bolton. I am with Lannisport Police, I’ve been assigned to your case” he explained and she gave a solemn nod. 

“In that case, please come in, pick a chair any chair” she motioned and as he moved closer, he realized that Jaime Lannister was curled up on a couch that had been facing away from him. He looked fast asleep, so he decided to pick a chair near the window and sat as she did, both of them facing each other. 

“They’ve all taken it upon themselves to not leave me alone” she looked to Jaime--her fiance if memory served, and shook her head. “Everything’s become such a mess” she looked back to him. “May I see your badge and ID card please, forgive my lack of trust but--my mother tried to kill me, you see, and it's been a very strange month for someone with trust issues.” 

“Understandable” he pulled the leather wallet from his suit jacket pocket and handed it to her. She took it with a trembling hand and opened it, looking at the badge and L.P.D ID card that were safely tucked inside. 

“Roose Bolton” she read aloud as she closed the wallet. “A very Northern name.” 

“I have not lived in the North for many years,” he said. “Ran out of there as fast as I could.”

“So you’re not owned by Catelyn Stark?” she gave a sardonic laugh and handed him back his badge. 

“Speaking frankly, Miss. Stark” he chuckled. “Your mother is psychotic.” 

“I know” she agreed with a small smile. “And please call me Sansa. I don’t consider myself a Stark. Not anymore.” 

“Sansa, then” he replied. “I was hoping to speak with you today regarding your apartment and your accident.” 

“Accident” she leaned back in the chair, wincing slightly and covering her stomach with the trembling hand. “Accident implies that psycho number 2 didn’t try to shuffle me loose the mortal coil. Or is she psycho number 1? I can’t keep them straight--head injuries, you know. Very vexing.” 

“You’re very blunt” he noted. 

“To a fault” she agreed. “I am told it is part of my ‘charm’.” 

“Of course” he nodded in agreement, pulling his notebook from his pocket. There he had written a few questions that he had to run by her, and didn’t want to forget them. “Shall we begin?” 

“Do you have any chocolate?”

“Unfortunately, I do not” he couldn’t help but laugh at the odd question and her pout in response. 

“Then, by all means, go ahead,” she prompted. 

“When was the last time you spoke with Catelyn Stark?” 

“Thank you for not calling her my ‘mother’, because she’s not” Sansa stated. “Genetically yes, but that woman is a monster. I haven’t spoken with her since the day she learned I had changed my college major and she cut me off from the entire family.” 

He made a few notes, “No contact with any of your siblings or your father?”

“I had not spoken to Ned Stark from that day until he showed here a few days ago” she replied and he made a mental note to not call them her mother or father, as that seemed to be a sore spot. “Same with Bran until he arrived with Yohn Royce--my true father, several weeks ago.” 

“Alright” he nodded. “Did she ever make any verbal threats or act on physical violence?---” 

“I think it would be simpler if I just told you about my childhood, Lieutenant Bolton. It would help prevent a lot of useless questions and shed some light on the situation I currently find myself in” she interjected and he could see the sheen of unshed tears return to her eyes. “Growing up, I had no friends and my siblings treated me like a pariah. I wasn’t allowed to play or roughhouse, I spent my days either at school or with my mother as she drove me from tutor to tutor and lesson to lesson.” 

He closed his notebook and gave her his full attention, listening intently. 

“Catelyn Stark was determined, from my very first moments in this world, to form me into a perfect lady. Logically, being perfect required endless hours of practice, rehearsals and lessons. Ballet until my toes bled through my shoes, penmanship until my hands cramped and could no longer hold a pen, studying the great houses until I would fall asleep on my book and then she would shake me to wake me up. I bought myself my first cell phone when I moved from home and likewise, I bought myself my first pair of pants when I went away to school. Before then I had only been allowed to wear clothes that she personally selected for me, dresses or skirts, usually. I wasn’t permitted to date or speak with boys, I wasn’t permitted to eat more than what she gave me to eat and she would cut down what minimal calories I was given if she believed I was growing ‘fat’. I was tired all the time, hungry all the time and I cried myself to sleep nearly every night” Sansa shook her head. “I lived my life, right up to the day I left for college, firmly under her thumb and covered in bruises. She is a monster and she always has been” Sansa broke off, looking over his shoulder and he looked back to see Jaime Lannister sitting up, listening to her speak. The pain in his eyes was evident, and Roose wondered how much detail she’d actually revealed to her fiance before now. 

“So, yes” Sansa looked back to him, tears falling down her cheeks. “She’s always made verbal threats, called me horrible names when I was disobedient--called me a whore when she found out I’d given my virginity to a professor at the Vale University. And she’s always used physical violence as a means to remind me that _she_ was in control. A hand on the inner arm, on the back of my neck, on my chin. She had to remind me that I was nothing, and she did so quite often.”

“I am very sorry, Sansa” Roose said sincerely. “What little I know of Catelyn Stark, is not positive in the least.”

“The worst part?” she laughed, shaking her head. “It’s all a lie. All of it.” 

“What do you mean?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“I mean” she turned away, grabbing a large stack of file folders from the table beside her. “She hated me because Ned fucked another woman. She abused me, terrorized and terrified me because I was a daughter and not a son. All the while hiding the fact that she was an even worse monster than I ever thought she was capable of.” 

She set the files in his hands, their weight surprising him, “What is this?” 

“Tywin Lannister’s man, Addam Marbrand, spent some time in the North recently” Sansa explained. 

“I know Marbrand, he has a sharp eye” Roose agreed. 

“He does” Sansa looked to Jaime briefly before she looked back to him. “That’s everything, Lieutenant Bolton, all of it. Every sordid detail, lie and nightmare. I could tell you stories for days on what Catelyn Stark did to me, but--” she broke off, closing her eyes to conceal her emotions. “What she did to another girl, and that girl’s family, was even worse.” 

“San--” Jaime crossed to her side, taking her hand. 

“Burn it all down, Lieutenant Bolton” she said, her voice a resolute command. “I’ll even help you strike the match.” 

Jaime leaned on the doorway to the master bedroom, a room that he was proud to once again share with Sansa. It felt like it had been years, when in truth it had only been a few weeks since he last saw her sleeping in their bed. It was a simple view but one he had missed more than anything. He had gone out of his way to avoid sleeping here without her, it didn’t feel right.

It has been a long week already, and it was only Wednesday. Talking with his father, Yohn and Addam, and then listening to Sansa talk with Detective Bolton, it was an emotional roller coaster and he was more than ready for it all to end. 

He knew that Catelyn Stark was a nightmare, but hearing the details of her childhood from Sansa’s lips, made him ready to get in the car and drive to the jail so he could shake Catelyn Stark without mercy. 

His Sansa was stronger than he ever could have imagined, in so many ways. 

The highlight of their week was her discharge from the hospital today, under a list of strict conditions and rules, and with the promise that she would always have someone with her in case of an emergency. He was fairly certain that Sansa would have agreed to living with dragons so long as she could just go home. 

The first thing she wanted to do when they reached the apartment, was shower. That had taken a bit of work and finagling to cover her cast and stitches, but once they were covered, he was more than happy to help her to clean away the last of the hospital grime. Though most of the bruises had faded and the scraped had healed, she had grown thinner and he made an unspoken promise to return her to heal as quickly as possible. 

He wanted to linger in the shower forever, but when the water cooled and her waterproof bandages started to weaken, they were forced to step back into the real world. She sighed in pleasure as he helped to towel her off, whispering that she felt a million times better already.

Their second order of business was brushing out her hair, a task slightly easier than waterproofing a cast. He had been as gentle as possible, working through snarls and tangles, and when it was all smooth, he towel dried it as much as possible and did a pitiful job at braiding it--though it was much better than his job with the red polish on her toes. 

However, before they could reach the mashed potatoes he promised her, Sansa had fallen asleep on the bed. He knew she hadn’t slept for shit in the hospital, and the second she was safe at home, she was out like a light. He didn’t bother with night clothes, simply pulled the blankets over her and tucked her in. She needed sleep so she could heal, mashed potatoes could wait. 

Clicking off the light, he stepped back through the door and pulled it mostly shut before venturing down the hall to where everyone had gathered in the kitchen. And by everyone, he meant everyone. Tywin, Yohn, Cersei, Tormund and Bran were sitting at the table, Bran listening intently as Tywin reviewed duplicates of Addam’s findings with him. 

“Here” Cersei handed him two fingers of whisky as he leaned against the counter and he chuckled at his twin. “What? Figured you would appreciate it.” 

“You have no idea” he threw the amber liquid back in a single gulp, letting the burn of the alcohol distract him from the rage bubbling in his veins. 

“We could have her killed” Cersei said softly, listening to Tywin and Yohn talk with Bran. 

“Too good for her” Jaime replied easily. “She needs to he around to watch everything she’s lived for collapse around her. She needs to watch it all turn to ash until she chokes on the taste of it.” 

“When did you become the vindictive one?” Cersei smirked. “I love it.” 

“I am tired of people fucking with my wife” Jaime stated, grinding his teeth. 

“She’s not your wife, not yet anyway” Cersei reasoned. “I am surprised you didn’t drag her to the courthouse or Sept on your way home from the hospital.” 

“Not for lack of want, I assure you” Jaime explained. “Sansa deserves better, deserves the whole shebang; white dress, flowers, twinkle lights, whatever she wants. And we deserve a wedding night along with several weeks away from the world. I mean to see to that as soon as she’s healed and ready.”

“Twinkle lights” Cersei scoffed. “You’ve clearly thought this through, Princess.” 

“Every damn day” Jaime said and when there was a pause in his conversation, Jaime address his father. “Detective Bolton said that Catelyn has been placed next to Brienne in protective custody.” 

“Now it’s _really_ a psych-ward” Yohn scoffed and Cersei let out a snort of laughter. 

“They’re hoping that they will incriminate themselves,” Jaime shrugged. 

“He has all the information that he needs now,” Tywin replied. “I believe that Sansa did the right thing in giving it all to him. While there are details that are irrelevant to the case, such as Arya’s marriage bed,” he glanced to Bran who looked pale and as if he’d vomit at any moment. “There are many that are sins that Catelyn needs to be held accountable for. Sins that have remained hidden for too long.” 

“I agree” Jaime said. 

“I will call my friends in the Far North” Tormund said, flipping through the papers. “There isn’t much here about Rickon, but I can see if anything else has been covered up through our department. I have a woman there I can trust.” 

“Thank you” Jaime said to the wild ginger and he watched the man take Bran’s hand, holding it tightly in a show of support. He could tell that Bran was disturbed by what the investigation had revealed, but he deserved to know. Sansa had insisted that they tell him as soon as possible. Before it reached any news outlets or became public knowledge, Bran deserved to hear it from family first. 

“I can’t believe that my Mother---” Bran shook his head. “I’ve seen her drink, but never like this and the accident, she told us she hit a deer.” 

“Do you remember seeing the car?” Tywin asked and Bran shook his head.

“No, I wasn’t home to see it” he glanced to Tormund and Jaime got the feeling that the two had been together that night. “I am sorry now that I wasn’t. I might not have known, but I could have--I might have” he covered his face with his hand, taking several deep breaths. “If Sansa hadn’t have given all this to the detectives, I would have. This isn’t right, this is not right at all.” 

“Would you have looked for her? For Sansa?” Jaime asked before he could think twice about it. He knew that it was something that was eating at Sansa’s mind and he wanted to know if he had to protect her from yet another heartbreak. “If Catelyn hadn’t sent you away, would you have looked for her?” 

“Yes” Bran answered, meeting his eyes. “I started researching when I saw the billboards on the news. When my mother grew furious over them, I just couldn’t understand why. I found Yohn’s information in her address book before she found out about me--about us” he glanced to Tormund. “There was something that struck me as off about everything and I think deep down I knew, I knew my mother had done something awful.” 

“Tell her that” Jaime said softly. “Tell Sansa, because she doesn’t know up from down anymore when it comes to her family. She needs to know.” 

“I will tell her” Bran promised with a frown. “I am sorry she felt that way.” 

“Can you blame her?” Jaime countered. 

“No” Bran looked back to the paperwork. “No, I can’t.”

Sansa woke to a steady throbbing in her head, something she had gotten used to since the incident, however this time when she opened her eyes, it was to see Jaime sleeping beside her. She smiled, admiring the fall of his golden hair across his forehead and the chisel of his jaw beneath his stubble. 

She had missed this, waking up beside him and being able to admire him as he slept. Even from the first night they spent together, she found sleeping Jaime Lannister thoroughly adorable. He looked much younger, boyish and innocent, nothing at all like the man who spent (or did spend) his nights making her scream in pleasure. 

She felt, at long last, well rested and coherent, more grateful than she could say to be back at home. 

Carefully sitting up, she grabbed the sketchbook and pencil from the night table and flipped to a clean page. She worked quickly, not sure when he would wake, capturing as much detail as she could of the sleeping man beside her. 

She paused a few times, holding her right hand out to ensure herself that it, unlike its left counterpart, held no tremor. A tiny miracle, she supposed, that her drawing hand would be spared the condition her left hand had been condemned to. She would still be able to paint and draw, a passion that had almost been stolen from her. 

She was working on the shading of his lips as Jaime stirred, his eyes immediately looking to her side of the bed, those same lips melting into an ovary-destroying smile. 

“Don’t smile at me like that” Sansa teased. 

“Oh?” 

“I am incapable of doing anything I very desperately want to do right now,” she admitted with a raised brow. “And when you smile like that, I just want to say ‘fuck it’ and crawl over there.” 

Jaime chuckled, smoothing his hair from his face, “Man, I’ve still got it.” 

“Lannister” she warned, watching the muscles of his arm flex as he moved. 

“Want me that bad, do you?” 

“I will bludgeon you with this” she raised the sketchbook.

“If it helps” he scooted closer. “I feel the same way. I always have.” 

“Yeah, well you’re not the one with a busted head and stomach” she pouted then jumped in surprise as his fingers trailed across her knee under the blanket. 

“Stop it!”

“No” he leaned close to kiss her softly and she returned it as best she could at the awkward angle she had to sit at. He kissed her until she was breathless, all but panting and the ache between her thighs was screaming at her to shove him to his back and ride him to hell and back--something she was not able to do. Not to mention Dr. Clegane might pop out of the closet and growl at her about her stomach injuries.

She definitely did not want that.

When at last Jaime broke the kiss, her lips felt swollen and hot, her body in a lustful haze. The moment she had medical clearance, she was going to steal a pair of handcuffs and ensure that she could have her way with him for as long as she damn well pleased. 

“You’re also forgetting something very important” Jaime propped himself on his elbow beside her, holding her close. He smiled down at her, moving an errant curl from her forehead. Thanks to having passed out before her hair was dry, it was something of a riot today.

“What’s that?” 

“You haven’t taken your birth control pills since the accident and you were on antibiotics anyway, which would negate them” he smirked and she felt her cheeks heat. She hadn’t even thought of that, how did--- “The doctor warned me about it when he warned me about your _physical limitations_” Jaime explained, as if reading her mind. 

“Oh” Sansa bit her lower lip, then let a smirk settle on her face. “Lannister” she whispered. “You have baby fever.” 

“If I had baby fever, I wouldn’t have reminded you and simply taken great pleasure in fucking the hell out of you until I was certain you were pregnant, I assure you.” 

“Ba-by fe-ver” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“I will spank you, I promise” he chastised. 

“Ba-by fe-ver” she laughed softly, kissing his chin. “You’re adorable.” 

“I’m glad you think so, I worked really hard on it” he teased in return, his hand brushing across her bare breasts as he snuggled closer. She hardly thought that was accidental.

“Damnit, Lannister, watch the hands” she sighed in frustration. 

“Never” he promised with a laugh. 

“Jerk” she pouted, letting the warmth of his body calm hers until she felt sleep threatening once more. “I wanted to paint today” she mumbled as her eyelids grew heavier. 

“Later” he reasoned. “I will carry you to the easel myself. For now, just shut up and relax.” 

“Fine” she grumbled. “But I really wish we were having sex right now.” 

“Me too, Lannister, me too” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR YOU LOVE AND SUPPORT AND READERSHIP AND AHHHHH! <3 Thank you.
> 
> Also, super special thank you to everyone on tumblr who has been sending me inspo pics for this fic! I AM LOVING IT!! ALL OF IT! <3 you're all the BEST!


	24. Part 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hear from Catelyn (so heads up), and some fluff....much needed and promised fluff.
> 
> Also, as promised, your NEW chapter 24 picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/190360254116/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/)
> 
> Thank you all so much for the love and support!  
Tissue warning for the end (fluff)!

“For the record” Roose began. “Please state your full name.” Silence filled the interview room and Roose looked up at his subject with what he was sure was an exasperated stare. After several minutes, he sighed, “You’re the one that asked to speak with me, you said you wanted to cooperate, was that a lie too?” 

“Catelyn Tully Stark” she said simply, her blue eyes icy cold and filled with irritation. 

“Thank you” he replied flatly and she gave him a sarcastic smile that only made him want to roll his eyes. “You said you wished to cooperate, what do you have to offer us?” 

“For the record,” she said and he looked up at her from his files. She deliberately leaned closer to the microphone that was recording their conversation. “I am innocent.” 

“Innocent of what, Mrs. Stark?” he set his pen down and closed the file folder. 

“The man who arrested me said arson, I am innocent of arson” she replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Let’s review that shall we” Roose glanced to Rickard Karstark, Catelyn’s lawyer who was seated at the corner of the table. Rickard looked as exasperated as Roose felt, and he was certain that was only going to get worse because Roose was about to ruin Catelyn’s day. 

In every possible fucking way. 

“Review what? I am innocent” Catelyn maintained. 

“Innocent of what?--”

“Arson--” 

“Conspiracy to commit arson? Arson? Conspiracy to commit murder? Insurance fraud--several counts of that in fact. Bribery? Providing false statement to the police? Bribery of a police officer? Child abuse?” he paused, opening the files that Sansa Stark had given him. He would be the first to admit that Addam Marbrand had done a fantastic job in the North. The man had unearthed things that Roose never wanted to learn about the Stark family. “Vehicular manslaughter? Driving while intoxicated?” he pulled a photo of Mya Stone’s twisted and broken sedan, her dead body still inside. “Shall I continue, Mrs. Stark? Or are you still _innocent_?” 

She stared at the photo for several seconds, long enough that Karstark reached between them and took the photo, gaping at it. 

“She was barely sixteen” Roose added. “You blew a .22, over twice the legal limit. I’d venture you had more drinks than she had years on this earth--how is that fair?” 

“How dare---” 

“You paid Umber and Glover to bury the report and you defrauded your insurance company” Roose chuckled. “The Glovers must be deep in your pocket, hell, Detective Glover’s younger brother took the fall for your son and his little nose candy problem recently too, from what I hear.”

“Rickard---” Catelyn said, swallowing reflexively as she looked away from the photo of the accident. 

“I would like copies of everything---” Roose cut off Karstark’s words as he pulled another file from his briefcase and unceremoniously dropped it onto the metal table in front of him. 

“Done” Roose stated and Karstark began to flip through everything with a trembling hand. Any second now he would realize that his client was well and truly fucked. Gods he loved his job. “It is going to take the judge an hour just to read all of your charges, Mrs. Stark” Roose picked up his pen. “So I ask you again, what do you have to offer that you think we’d want to make a deal?” 

“My husband’s bastard” she spat. “Jon Snow.” 

“What about him” Roose prompted. 

“He’s a vindictive little shit” she continued and Roose did his best to control his features. He knew Jon Snow--Jon Snow wasn’t bright enough to be vindictive. 

“Is he?” 

“He’s always wanted to have the Stark name” she explained, pushing the photograph of the accident back towards him and away from her line of sight. She didn’t even feel remorse, he inwardly sighed, not a single ounce. She just didn’t want to look at what she’d done. 

“Did you promise it to him if he helped you kill Sansa?” 

“Don’t you speak her name to me” Catelyn hissed immediately, her eyes feral and wide. 

“It’s only fair, you did try to burn her alive” Roose countered. 

“I told you, I am innocent.” 

“And I told you, you’re a liar.” 

“You’re not a very good detective are you, Bolton?” she sneered. “You’ve arrested an innocent woman.” 

“You haven’t been innocent since you were in utero” he scoffed, making a few notes on his legal pad. 

“It is Jon Snow you should be talking to---” 

“Oh I did” Roose pulled the written statement from his stack of papers. “He’s a good guy, deep down, but dumber than a burlap sack full of doorknobs. Probably why he fell victim to your schemes” he set the statement on the table and pulled her phone records and credit card statements out for further emphasis. “So tell me again, Mrs. Stark, about how I should be talking to Jon Snow.” 

“I would like copies of the state---” 

“They’re in your folders” Roose cut the lawyer off. “This isn’t my first rodeo, so stop trying to delay the process and let your client answer the questions.” 

“Detective Bolton---” 

“Or not” he leaned back in his chair and tossed his pen onto the table. “Really, I have all the time in the world. If she wants to waste it, by all means, waste away.” 

“You bast---” Catelyn hissed.

“It doesn’t change the fact that you have a longer wrap sheet than most gang members I know” Roose cut her off, turning his cold glare on her. “And that’s saying something, _Lady_ Stark.” 

“I did nothing wrong!”

“Tell me about the ballet lessons until her toes bled” Roose said cooly. “Tell me about slapping her around. Tell me about starving her.” 

“Did _she_ tell you that?” Catelyn screeched. “I was a good mother, I did nothing wrong---” 

“Tell me about what a whore she is” Roose’s voice dropped to a sinister growl. “About how she could have been a great Lady--tell me about the bruises!” 

“She could have been a great lady!” Catelyn screamed out, standing so abruptly that her metal chair toppled over, the sound echoing in the interview room. Karstark looked horrified and scooted his chair away from her outrage. 

“Tell me about what a disobedient bitch that Sansa is.” 

“Stop saying her name!” Catelyn yelled, shaking her head. Her hair was dingy and tangled, the benefits of prison showers and no expensive beauty routines, he was sure. “She could have been great---she could have been perfect!”

“But, she was nothing but---” Roose egged her on. This was almost too easy.

“An ungrateful whore who spread her legs for the first man she met as soon as she was in the Vale!” Catelyn argued. “I tried--I tried so hard!”

“To break her?” 

“To love her” Catelyn corrected. “All Ned would say is how beautiful she was--how perfect she was! But she wasn’t!” 

“Oh?” Roose could barely hide his smirk. She had been so easy to break. All he had to do was put a quarter in, push the right buttons and here she was, singing her heart out.

“She should have been a son! That whore---that artist tramp gave him a son!” 

“You’d already given him Robb” Roose reasoned. 

“And he still couldn’t be faithful! And for what?”

“Perhaps he found warmth in her bed.”

“I was plenty warm!”

“It seems like it, sure.” 

“But that girl---I tried so hard to love her, to teach her and guide her” Catelyn tugged at her hair. “But all she wanted was _Uncle Yohn_ and her crayons! That stupid blue collar man and his stupid art books!” 

“So you beat her?”

“I guided her!” 

“With violence.” 

“With a firm hand!” 

“With violence.” 

“Stop saying that!” she slammed her hands onto the table and this time Karstark stood from his chair and stepped back. “I tried to teach her!” 

“And her” Roose pushed the photo of Mya back towards her. “Did you guide her? Looks to me like you 'guided' her right into an early grave.” 

“Detective Bolton--”

“Shut up!” Catelyn cut her lawyer off with a flail of her hands. “You imbecile!” 

“There she is” Roose stood smoothly from his chair, leaning closer to her. He had the distinct pleasure of watching her cower under his hard gaze, her fingers curling nervously on the cool metal table. “The Catelyn Stark I heard all about from your fellow Northmen” he chuckled. 

“They love me!” 

“They fucking abhor you” he countered. “Finding one to say a kind word about you was like looking for pornography in a monastery. They hate you, you who have ruined more lives than the plague.” 

“I am a patron---” 

“Of pain, maybe” he agreed. “You’re an abusive alcoholic, Mrs. Stark. You tried to kill Sansa, you did kill Mya Stone and you planned to kill your husband.”

“What” Catelyn paled then, stumbling back and away from him. 

“Oh, Mrs. Stark” he ‘tsked’ his teeth. “Don’t tell me you think our men stand guard over your cell all day and _don’t_ hear what you tell Miss. Tarth? How naive of you.”

“I did nothing---” 

“Ethylene glycol is a terrible way to go” he shook his head and retook his seat, calmly crossing his arms. “So tell me again, what do you have to offer me?” 

Jaime smiled at the sight that greeted him as he arrived home, a sight that he had dearly missed over the last few weeks. 

Sansa was seated at her easel in the large windows, clad only in one of his faded t-shirts, humming softly to herself as she painted. She wasn’t working on the painting of the girl and the lion, that one sat forgotten against the far wall, but instead was working on a new canvas, this one much larger and much darker. 

Her stool, one he had sent Tormund to purchase when they’d finally brought her home, had back and leg supports, allowing her leg to be elevated and her weaker side to lean against the back. Her hair was held up in a bun with several paint brushes, and even from here he could see paint on her bare thighs and forearms. 

She was stunning. 

Carefully setting the box by the door, he prayed the contents would cooperate while he explained his new ‘gift’. He crossed the room, standing beside her for a few moments before she even realized that he was there, and the smile he was rewarded with was everything. 

“You’re home” she beamed. 

“Just” he leaned down, kissing her softly. “How is your head?” 

“Just a headache now,” she assured him. “Nothing major. How was the office?” 

“Chaos, of course” he replied, shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it onto the arm of the couch nearby. “Everyone was asking about you, but surprisingly Pod has held down the fort like a champ.” 

“That’s good” Sansa set her brushes aside and wiped her hands. 

“I brought you something---well, two somethings, really.” 

“You did?” she smirked. “You’re spoiling me.” 

“You’ll just have to get used to it” he pulled the first gift, a slim black business card holder from his trouser pocket and placed it in her hands. “You asked me once about helping you rebrand.” 

“I did” Sansa agreed, opening the card holder. 

“And I promised you business cards once” he continued. “A sans serif font, if I remember correctly.” 

“You always were a good listener” she pulled one of the cards from the flap, tracing the design with her fingers. He had worked hard on the design, putting to use some of his ‘down time’ at the hospital to work on concepts and logos for her new business venture. Cersei had helped him narrow down the designs and Yohn picked the final one, a celestial sort of design with the antique framed look of Runestone’s bronze plaque. “Oh” her breath caught. “This looks just like Runestone.” 

“That was the idea” he smiled. “I wanted you to have a new look, a fresh start. But a little bit of home on it too.” 

“I love it, it's perfect. Though” she traced the letters of her last name on the card. “This is getting ahead of ourselves, isn’t it?” 

“We agreed that ‘Sansa Lannister’ has a nice ring to it,” he gave a casual shrug. “It’s also balanced and clean, which the design warrants and I---”

‘Meow’ the sound, though quiet, echoed in the apartment like an explosion. 

Sansa’s eyes leapt to his, the blue orbs wide and filled with surprise, “Meow?” she gasped. 

‘Meow?’

“I was hoping she would cooperate” he chuckled. “She is proving almost as impatient as you are.” 

“She?” 

“The building doesn’t allow dogs,” he explained. “But they allow cats and I thought---” he broke off, laughing nervously. “I don’t really know what I thought, actually, but I figured we’d get a dog someday. Maybe when we have the house--and kids for them. But for now--”

‘Meow.’

“Gimme” Sansa set her cards aside, smiling like a little kid on Christmas. “Gimme the kitty!” 

“Like I said, impatient” Jaime quickly moved back to the white box with holes all over the sides and opened the top. He lifted out the furry body and heard Sansa’s gasp and giggle of glee. 

“Oh!” Sansa clapped happily. “Give her to me!”

“She is older, her previous owners had to give her up and I thought that she would enjoy the quiet life of a painter’s cat” he carried her back to Sansa who immediately extended her hands to take the cat from him, hugging her close. “Lounging in the sun, being generally lazy and adored.” 

“She is just lovely” Sansa smiled, the cat now purring loudly as she rubbed her face against Sansa’s. 

“Her name is Elvira” Jaime stroked the back of the sleek black cat with a smile. He wouldn't admit it, but he was a sucker for the cat's bright green eyes and dark coat. He hadn't been able to pass her up from the first moment he met her at the shelter downtown. “Not very original but---” 

“But we can call her Elle or Ellie” Sansa smiled up at him. “She is perfect, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome” he leaned down to kiss her softly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds until he felt the cat’s face nuzzle against his stubble-covered cheek too. 

“I love you” Sansa quickly kissed him. 

“I love you--oh,” he laughed as Elle bumped him again. “And you. She’s going to be a spoiled little princess, isn’t she?” 

“Absolutely” Sansa agreed with a mischievous smirk. “You know, if you have baby fever you can just tell me.” 

“Nope” he laughed, shaking his head. He walked to the door where the bag of supplies sat and he carried them into the kitchen ignoring her laughter. He wasn’t about to stand around and be called-out like that. He unpacked the food and water dishes, litter necessities and food, putting them all away before Sansa’s voice called out to him. 

“Jaime?” 

“Huh?” he poked his head around the corner to look at her, smiling at the sight of her snuggling the cat.

“Will you carry us to to the couch so we can snuggle?” she pouted and he ran a hand through his hair. He was absolutely, thoroughly, whipped. He tossed the grocery bag aside and made his way to her, lifting her easily under her knees and back. 

And he didn’t care a damn bit. 

Brienne stood when the guards escorted Catelyn back to her cell, and moved quickly to the bars in waiting. Catelyn Stark had been gone for a while and Brienne was worried that they had moved the older woman to another cell block. 

Once the guard locked her in, they moved back to the observation deck and Brienne couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Catelyn?” she called out and heard the distinct sound of sniffling for a brief moment before Catelyn’s cold voice replied. 

“They heard us.” 

“What? Who?” Brienne asked. 

“The guards” Catelyn explained. “They heard our conversations--I should have assumed they would. It was stupid to speak with you. A moment of vanity and weakness, I suppose.” 

“What did they hear?” 

“They know about Ned” Catelyn replied. “They also know a lot more than I thought they would ever unearth.” 

“Is it bad?” 

“Yes” Catelyn scoffed. “This is all that stupid whore’s fault. She’s ruined everything.” 

“She does that” Brienne agreed sadly. 

“I wouldn’t say anymore if I were you” Catelyn cautioned. “They already know too much.” 

“Do they know about---everything?” 

“I would assume, at this point, yes” Catelyn replied. “They’re pushing for maximum sentences.” 

Brienne’s heart sank, “For both of us?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Brienne stepped back from the bars and sank to the cot, hanging her head into her hands. She had hoped, by now, that Jaime would have come to see her. That he would have visited or _something_ and she was growing more certain by the day that he had truly chosen Sansa over her. 

A hard pill to swallow. 

Sansa ruined everything, she couldn’t agree with Catelyn more. She had barged into their life with her beautiful hair and her smart mouth and stolen Jaime away. Just as she had brought Catelyn to this low. 

The buzz of the main doors sound and this time the guards came to her cell, opening the hatch and instructing her to place her hands behind her back. Brienne forced herself to her feet and did as they told her, the cold metal of the handcuffs burning against her skin as they locked her in. 

A moment later her cell doors opened and she was escorted down the familiar yellow line back towards the interview rooms. She hadn’t been in one of these in a while, and the man that was awaiting her promised ill news indeed. 

“Ms. Tarth” Detective Roose Bolton greeted her, motioning to the chair and the guards escorted her the small distance to it. “Thank you for joining me.” 

“Did I have a choice?” she asked. 

“No.” 

“Then you’re not welcome.” 

“Right” he smoothed his tie and crossed to the chair opposite her, sitting with a fluid grace that would have been terrifying in the wrong circumstances. Not that these were really the right ones…

“Why am I here?” 

“Several reasons, actually” Roose replied. “The first of which is that I would like you to tell me something.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Tell me about yours and Mrs. Starks half-cocked plot to kill Sansa Stark” Roose asked, his gaze unflinching and as cold as ice. 

Brienne took a shuddering breath and shook her head, speaking the only words she could in this situation; “I want my lawyer.”

“Good” Roose’s lips curved into a smirk. “I was hoping that you would say that.” 

“I think I am going to kidnap her” Tormund announced as Elle snuggled into his beard, clearly enjoying the extra warmth it provided. 

“Don’t you dare!” Sansa laughed, tossing a pillow at him. 

“I could smuggle her out in a coat” Tormund teased. “Or a purse!”

“You don’t carry a purse!” Sansa argued. 

“I could! Don’t you think I have the figure for it?” he smirked. 

“Definitely” Sansa relaxed against Jaime’s body beside hers on the couch. Though she was sore and had to be careful which way she moved, she was feeling more human than she had in a long time. She had spent the day painting, passing the time while Jaime went into Casterly for a few hours to check in. 

The tremor in her left hand had not abated, but her right hand seemed to be unaffected and she was able to paint just as she had before. It was a comfort to know that she would be able to return to her passion when all this bullshit was over. 

They had all shared a peaceful dinner cooked by Bran, surprisingly enough, and they were gathered in the living room while Elle did her best to soak up attention and love from everyone. Sansa’s heart ached for the silky black cat whose owners had to surrender her, but the fact that Jaime had thought to bring her a companion to share her days at home, nearly brought her to tears. 

She had always wanted to have a petl; dog, cat, anything really, just something to snuggle and love, but her Mother hadn’t permitted it. Go figure. Her Mother didn’t permit cookies either, so why would she let Sansa have a pet? But now their little furball was here and she couldn’t be happier.

Sansa noticed Bran looking to Jaime a few times, but before she could ask what was going on, Jaime was rising from his seat behind her, stuffing a few pillows to her back to keep her propped up. 

“What--”

“Tormund, would you help me in the kitchen?” Jaime asked, clearing his throat. 

“Can I bring the cat?” 

“Yes” Jaime nodded and Tormund was on his feet, carrying Elle away from the living room. In the same instant, Bran stood from the loveseat where he had been sitting with his Wildling Man-Friend and came to sit on the coffee table facing her. 

“What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Sansa asked, looking to her younger brother. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something” Bran pulled a few folded papers from the back pockets of his jeans. “To clear the air, so to speak.” 

“Alright” she adjusted to face him as best she could, her pulse racing as she wondered what could be so important that the others had to leave the room. 

He unfolded the papers and she recognized the familiar images of the billboards--the infamous billboards, “When these hit the news, Mother lost her mind” Bran explained. “I didn’t know why, it just seemed wrong to me,” he extended them to her. “So I googled and I found you--even found Alayne. I was always good with computers” he laughed nervously. 

“You did?” Sansa took the printouts, running her fingers over that ridiculous frog phone. 

“I waited until Mother was asleep, then I looked through her things for Yohn’s address” Bran explained, pointing to a few notes on the second page that were the address and phone number at Runestone. 

“Oh” Sansa whispered. 

“This was before she threw me out” Bran pointed to the dates on the bottom and they were from the day after the billboards were revealed. “I was going to find you--at some point, I don’t know when or how, but I knew in my gut that something wasn’t right.”

“You were going to find me?” Sansa asked, tears flooding her eyes. 

“Yeah” Bran swallowed, adjusting his glasses and sniffling loudly. His own eyes were suspiciously bright and they only made her tears rush faster. “You were always the one I ran to, more than just an older sister and I took it really had when you were just...gone.” 

“I’m sorry” she choked on a sob. “I didn’t want to--” 

“I know that now” he reached out to take her hand. “I just wanted you to know that I would have found you. You weren’t….you weren’t a last resort. You’re my sister and I love you. You know that right?” 

She nodded, tears nearly blinding her, “I love you too, Branny” she set the papers aside and leaned forward to give him a hug, however awkward it was from their positions. She cried softly, the emotions spilling over as he soothed a fear that she hadn’t dare speak to any but Jaime. 

Jaime--she opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder to see Jaime standing in the kitchen entrance with a soft smile on his face. Elle was winding around his legs begging for attention and Sansa smiled, laughing through her tears at the man who proved he’d do anything to ensure her happiness. 

She had tried so long to forget Catelyn Stark. To forget her life in the North and move on. But she had always felt as if there was a hole in her chest, one that had been steadily growing since her childhood and threatened to consume her. She didn’t know when it happened--couldn’t pinpoint the exact time or the place, but the hole was gone now. She couldn’t feel it, it wasn't even a twinge. 

And that was because of the life she had found here in Lannisport. With Yohn. With Jaime. With Cersei, Tywin and Bran and his Wildling Man-Friend. Sure she had to smack her head against the sidewalk and facedown monsters, but in doing so, she was stronger and happier than she had ever been. 

_I love you,_ Jaime mouthed from the kitchen and she blew him a quick kiss. 

_I love you too._


	25. Part 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've been waiting patiently, sorta ;)

Jaime woke to an odd sensation, something furry and soft nuzzling against his face and it momentarily startled him, then he remembered Elle and how their new addition had slept with them last night. Fortunately, they had a large bed, because the black feline seemed to already be right at home with them. Even after only a few days. 

“Off” Jaime helped Elle to the lower portions of the bed, the senior cat protesting but settling around his knees as he turned to check on Sansa. She was still fast asleep, curled into the pillow like it was a precious stuffed animal and he chuckled to himself as he slipped from the bed. 

Elle stood and trailed behind him as he made his way to the kitchen, muscle memory helping him to set the coffee pot going. The rich aroma of dark roast coffee filled the kitchen as Elle hopped onto the counter to get his attention. 

“You shouldn’t be on the counter, missy. What would your mother say?” Jaime chided, picking her up to hold her against his chest. This seemed to be exactly what the feline wanted to begin with, and nuzzled against his face as he crossed to the living room and switched on the TV. 

He absently rubbed Elle’s chin and cheeks as he watched a few minutes of the morning news, lost to thought when Sansa’s voice nearly had him coming out of his skin. 

“I want to see her” Sansa said simply. She still looked rumpled from sleep, her eyes puffy and hair a mess, but to him she would always be stunning, just like this. 

Jaime turned to face her, eyes scrunched in confusion, “Huh?” 

“Catelyn” Sanse elaborated. While she was moving around easier thanks to her walking cast, she still had a bit of a hobble as she approached him. 

“Why?” Jaime blurted before he could stop himself. Sansa stood before him, reaching up to absently pet Elle’s back. 

“I don’t know why exactly” she said honestly. “Only that I want to see her before there is any sort of trial or public encounter. I need to just…” she sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I just need to.” 

“Alright” Jaime swallowed thickly. “We can talk to Detective Bolton about it. Do you want a lawyer--”

“No” she shook her head. “I don’t need a lawyer, just want to speak with her. I am sure there will be guards--and you present.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, searching her bright blue eyes for any sign of fear or apprehension. 

“Yes” she nodded. “Brienne is whatever, but Catelyn and I have a long history and I need to see her now, as an adult, to see if she is really the monster I remember her to be and purge her from my brain.” 

“And if she is?” 

“She will spend the rest of her life in jail” Sansa continued. “As will Brienne. I don’t anticipate that I will have to worry much about them.” 

“What happens” he paused, glancing to where their hands were petting Elle for a few seconds before he continued. “What happens if, for some reason, they get out? What if the charges are dropped and they go free?” 

“Then I will let Tormund--or some other bodyguard follow me around with a handgun for as long as need be, is that what you want to hear?” she smirked. 

“Yes” he chuckled. 

“But I draw the line at wearing a helmet while I run errands” she stated and he couldn’t stop the smile from crossing his lips. 

“That’s up for negotiation” Jaime kissed her forehead, briefly admiring the way her eyes fluttered closed at the action. 

“No it’s not.” 

“Don’t make me call Yohn” Jaime said as the coffee maker beeped, signalling it had finished brewing its full pot. “Come on, coffee’s ready.” 

“Alright” Sansa took Elle from Jaime’s arms and carried her behind him as they made their way towards the kitchen. 

Jaime didn’t want to take her to the jail, he didn’t want to take her to see Catelyn who had spent Sansa’s entire life making her miserable. He didn’t want to take her to see the woman who had birthed her and then immediately started to abuse her. He didn’t want to. But was he going to stick to her side and support her while she did what she felt she had to do? Absolutely. He wasn’t going to leave her alone to face the beast, so to speak. He was going to stand at her side, hold her hand if need be, and help her to face the demon of her past. Sansa deserved that much. 

As for Brienne, he mentally shook his head as he poured them each a cup of coffee, Brienne could rot for all he cared. He’d received several emails from the lawyers that Brienne had asked to speak with him, asked him to come see her, but he staunchly refused. He didn’t want to sit across the table from someone that he had once called a friend and listen to them justify why they had run Sansa down with a rental car. Absolutely fucking not. 

“Hey” Sansa gently touched his forearm and he jolted back to the present. He’d poured the cups and had been staring at them for sometime, that much was obvious by the concern in her eyes. 

“Sorry” he looked to her and she smiled, that beautiful stunning smile that made him forget the rest of the world existed. “Lost in thought.” 

“I know” Sansa said softly, sliding her hand down his arm to take his hand in hers. “I know the feeling well.” 

“It’ll be over soon” he promised, not sure if he was reassuring himself or her more. 

“It will” she agreed, awkwardly moving closer to steal a kiss. “Or we can run far, far away and live like hermits in the mountains.”

“Not going to lie, that sounds pretty nice right about now,” he laughed. 

“Right” she agreed, hanging him Elle and taking her mug of coffee. Just then, the door to the spare room opened and Tormund’s booming voice sounded in the hall. 

“I smell coffee!”

“Wildling man-friend” Jaime whispered and Sansa giggled, hobbling to the table to relax with her morning brew. 

“Ms. Tarth” she rolled her eyes as her lawyer tried, once again, to reason with her. “You have to understand, I have very little here to defend you with” he lifted the case file and dropped it back onto the table. 

“You’re a lawyer, fix it” she said simply, staring back at Serwyn Goodwin. He had known her for a very long time, had even known her father, and she had hoped that he would be able to get her out of here. 

“Detective Bolton has built an iron-clad case and if it goes to trial, there isn’t much I will be able to do” he countered. “You argued with her at work, you got fired, you stalked her and then you rented a car to run her over, Ms. Tarth. Not to mention your behavior after your arrest, ranting and raving that landed you in protective custody. Then you talk with Catelyn Stark about killing Sansa once you two were out. You’ve made a mess for yourself here.” 

“I want to see him” Brienne ignored his words, starting at the thick stack of files on the table. “Jaime. I want to see him.” 

“He’s refused every time, he won’t change his mind” Serwyn shook his head. “We need to be focused on making a plea deal here, trying to get them to lower the charges and sentencing.”

“Fine” she crossed her arms. “You want a plea deal, I want to talk to Jaime. Ten minutes without that red headed bitch attached to his side. Then I will talk deals. I’ll even write out a confession, if that is what it takes to see him.” 

Serwyn sighed and leaned back in his chair, “I will make the call, see what I can do.” 

“About time you do something” she glared. 

“Try to keep yourself out of trouble, and stay away from Catelyn Stark.” 

“Unavoidable, she is in the cell next to mine.” 

“She threw you under the bus once already” Serwyn chuckled. “Ironic considering you’re the one with the vehicular charges. Stay away from her. She’s got a long list of problems and you don’t need to throw in with her.” 

“Is the enemy of my enemy, my friend? Or my enemy?”

“Stay away from her” he stated again, tucking his files back into his briefcase and stood. “I will let you know what I can work with Mr. Lannister” he turned and strode from the room, leaving her with the guard that would escort her back to her cell. 

She took a deep breath as she stood, the rough material of her prison uniform rubbing against her skin. She walked along the yellow line, guards at her front and back as they walked the familiar halls. She hated it here, the smell, the showers, the food...she just wanted to escape, but she was trapped, locking in here with the feral animals--the worst of which was Catelyn Stark. 

Catelyn had thrown her under the bus, just as Serwyn had said. She had told Detective Bolton that _she_ was going to get out and kill Sansa for both of them. That they knew where Sansa was staying, and if they couldn’t get into the building then they would lay in wait for her at Runestone. Now her predicament was worse than before. If she could only see Jaime, speak to him, then he would understand why she did this, why she had to save him from Sansa. Sansa was only using him--would never love him, not like Brienne did. He deserved to be loved, to be cared for regardless of his name or fortune, and she could give him that. 

She just had to get him to listen. 

“I think, when all this settles a bit, Tormund and I are going to go back to the Far North” Bran said, sinking onto the chair beside where she sat at her easel. “He has a house there and a career.”

“That makes sense” Sansa agreed, setting her brushes aside to face him. “We won't become strangers again, will we?” 

At her movement, Elle stood from where she had been laying on the side table and climbed into her lap. Sansa snuggled the feline, her shiny coat still warm from the afternoon sunshine and her purr loud.

“Never” he promised. “I am fairly certain that Tormund expects to be a bridesmaid in your wedding” he laughed and Sansa joined him. 

“I don’t think he would look too good in a dress” Sansa laughed. 

“I really don’t want to find out” Bran agreed, looking more like the youthful, happy boy she had known before everything blew up around them. She had already missed so much time with him, she didn't want to miss any more. 

“Nor do I” she agreed. 

“I’m worried about Rickon” Bran admitted, his tone suddenly serious and laced with sadness. “He’s already on that troubled path and I don’t know if Dad has what it takes to rein him in.” 

“I don’t know either,” she said. “We can always hope that a miracle will happen and Ned will pull his head out of his ass and be the Father he should have been from the start.” 

“In the North I will be able to keep an eye on him--on Rickon” Bran explained. “Tormund might be able to help me find a boot camp or rehabilitation program if need be. What a mess huh?” 

“Tell me about it” she smiled. 

“For what it’s worth, I am glad for part of it” Bran said. “The part that brought us back together.” 

“Me too” Sansa agreed. “Definitely me too.” 

“Dad” Jaime knocked on the open door to his Father’s office and Tywin turned from the window to look at him expectantly. “Got a moment?” 

“Of course” Tywin nodded and Jaime crossed to stand beside him in the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “You look troubled.” 

“I just spoke with Brienne’s lawyer--again” Jaime sighed, running his hands through his hair. 

“He’s a persistent little man, I will give him that much” Tywin shook his head. “She still trying to get you to see her?” 

“She said that she would make a deal--take a plea and write a confession if I just speak with her for ten minutes” Jaime explained, turning his back to the window and leaning his shoulders against the cool glass. “What a fucking nightmare.” 

“She’s holding your attention hostage” Tywin replied. “Is it worth it?” 

“To avoid a trail and the public media circus? Probably” he admitted. “I just don’t want to see her, I don’t think I can do it and hold my temper.” 

“Then don’t” Tywin smirked and Jaime knew that was his father’s mischievous face. “I don’t think she quite realizes how angry she’s made you. That she has hurt you as much--if not more than she hurt Sansa. She probably thought she was doing you a favor, rescuing you from Sansa’s evil clutches. She has no idea the emotional wreck you were.” 

“Emotional wreck is a strong term" he scoffed. "She doesn’t want Sansa there” Jaime added. 

“Of course not” Tywin scoffed. “She may be crazier than a shithouse rat, but she isn’t dumb. She can hardly manipulate you if Sansa is in the room.” 

“Do you think it is worth it?” Jaime asked, looking to his Father. 

“That depends” Tywin gave a small shrug. “The Chief of Police has made it clear that Yohn and I cannot drag her into the woods and make her dig her own grave, no matter how badly I want to. I can tell you that she will never work in this city again, and if she is ever released from prison, she will have to run to the Sapphire Isle. Brienne needs to face the consequences of her actions, and she needs to be held accountable for them. If she wants to write a confession, it needs to be done before you enter the room with her. She places it in your hands, speaks her peace and then fucks off to prison for the remainder.”

“Sansa won’t be pleased by Brienne’s request, I am sure.” 

“Sansa is intelligent and logical, she knows the media is already having a field day with Catelyn’s misadventures,” Tywin countered. “She would see the benefit of having at least one case go quietly into the night.” 

“I will have to talk to her about it” Jaime sighed. “One mess after another. I just needed a bit of Fatherly advice.”

“That is what I am here for, isn’t it?” Tywin smiled and reached out to pat his shoulder. “Your girl is a strong one, smart as a whip and when this is all over with, I hope you would consider using The Rock as a location for your wedding. None of this quickie courthouse nonsense, you need to let your old man make a big deal out of it.” 

“I fully intend to” Jaime nodded, pushing away from the window and rising to his full height. “Sansa deserves her dream wedding, as much as I hate to wait.” 

“Just, try not to go overboard” Tywin frowned. “Not like Tysha and Tyrion’s wedding.” 

“Fuck” Jaime laughed. “I didn’t know dresses could cost that much.” 

“Two of them” Tywin smirked, letting out a short laugh. “Talk to Sansa. I think she will have a bit of insight and logic to add. Process everything together and then proceed.” 

“Yeah” Jaime nodded in agreement. He turned to head back to the door, and paused, “Thank you, Dad.” 

“You’re welcome” Tywin gave a nod and Jaime exited the office. He tucked his hands into his pockets and ambled back to the senior design floor. He wouldn’t linger long, he wanted to talk with Sansa sooner rather than later and figure all this shit out. Because he would be damned if he had to wait a second longer than he had to, to marry her. 

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Sansa prompted as they worked in the kitchen, cooking dinner together. Bran and Tormund had gone out and said they wouldn’t be back until much later, so Sansa and Jaime were enjoying the peace and quiet. 

Elle was watching intently from the kitchen table chair that she had claimed as her own, content to watch them from a distance rather than get stuck under-foot. 

“You know me so well” Jaime chuckled, looking over at her. The boyish way his hair fell across his forehead made her smile, her golden lion. 

“I like to think so” Sansa agreed and after a long pause, prompted him once more. “Well?” 

“Brienne’s lawyer called me today” he started and Sansa set the spoon aside and let the pot simmer, turning to face him. 

“And?” 

“And she refuses to cooperate unless she can speak with me” Jaime explained and Sansa felt her eyes narrow of their own accord. Even incarcerated Brienne was trying to manipulate everyone. “Ten minutes is all that she asked for and in return, she would sign a confession and cooperate with the detectives.” 

“What a bitch” Sansa laughed, shaking her head and quickly stirring the chili on the stove. “What are your thoughts on it?” 

“I don’t want to, but it would make it go away” Jaime sighed, leaning against the counter beside her. “I just want it all to go away.” 

“Me too” she replaced the lid on the pot. “So, you go down there, get your signed confession--in triplicate, and it's over. We can focus on just the one crazy bitch.” 

“You’re alright with that?” 

“Fuck no, but sometimes we have to do shit that we don’t want to” Sansa explained. “I didn’t want to deal with Catelyn ever again, but here we are” she paused, “You know, if anything, it allows you to tell Brienne to go fuck herself, just like I plan to do with Catelyn fucking Stark.” 

“That would be nice” Jaime chuckled. He moved closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, snuggling her back to his front. She placed a hand over his on her stomach and he watched over her shoulder as she stirred dinner. She had known the moment he walked through the door that something was bothering him, and she was glad he had gotten it off of his chest. “You know” he placed a kiss on the curve of her neck, just above the neck of her blouse. “We have the apartment to ourselves…” 

“Feed me first,” Sansa leaned back against his strength. “Then you can carry me to bed.” 

“Deal” he kissed her once more, and they lapsed into silence, letting the gently simmering sound of the pot to fill the kitchen. Soon it would be over, and she couldn’t wait to move forward--move onwards, to better things. 

“Sorry Elle, you need to hang out here for a while” Jaime shooed the protesting feline from the bedroom and closed the door. Turning back to Sansa he felt the breath rush from his body, the sight of Sansa wearing nothing but her black panties and walking cast was nearly enough to unman him. 

“Hello lover” Sansa smirked, awkwardly climbing onto the bed. 

“You’re stunning” he had discarded his tie and dress shirt earlier when he got home, now he tugged his undershirt over his head and tossed it in the general direction of the hamper. 

“A bit battered” she watched him intently as he stopped beside the bed. “But none the worse for the wear.” 

“Good” he crawled over her, settling on his hands and knees over her. He leaned down to kiss her, this time not holding back as her lips parted and he delved deeper. He could taste the spice of dinner on her tongue, and the unique taste that was inherently Sansa, it was glorious. 

“Mmm” she sighed into their kiss and smoothed her hands over his bare chest to his shoulders, pulling him closer. Lowering himself to his elbows, he was mindful not to crush her, even as her hands redirected to his belt. She made easy work on the remainder of his clothing, and when her slender hand wrapped around his length, he let out a hiss, pulling back from their kiss. 

“Gods, it's been a long time,” he laughed. 

“Too long” Sansa agreed, stroking him in a slow, firm movement. 

“Fuck” he groaned, his hips thrusting against her hand of their own accord. 

“We can do slow and gentle later” Sansa lifted her hips to shimmy out of her panties. “Right now I just need you, please.” 

“Who am I to refuse such a request” he darted away briefly to grab a condom from the nightstand and practically tore the packet open as he returned to her. She helped him to roll the latex over his flesh, then scooted to the middle of the bed. She looked like an angel, spread out on the comforter, her hair a riot of red curls around her.

“Come here” she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and renewed their kiss as he settled into the cradle of her body. His brain kicked into gear and he reached between them, testing her folds and nearly sobbing in relief as he found her already drenched for him. Thank the Gods, he didn’t want to wait. Aligning himself he moved slowly but with confidence, not stopping until he bottomed out, filling her completely. 

“Fuck” Sansa broke their kiss, arching against him and wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. “I missed this so much.” 

“Me too” he kissed her gently. “This is paradise, right here. Just you and me against the world.” 

“Walking cast aside.” 

“I’d take it, as long as it means I get to come home to you every night and wake up beside you every morning” he replied, rocking gently. 

“Fuck” she mewled again. Jaime watched her as he moved; watched the way her skin flushed with passion, the way her eyes would alternate between watching him and fluttering shut, watched the way her body moved with his. He was so lost in his observation of her, that he didn’t know how much time had passed and he didn’t care. He could watch her forever. 

He felt her body tremble, her inner muscles flutter and clench as she sobbed his name, clutching to his shoulders as she came apart. He sped his hips, racing to meet her and then he followed her over the edge, growling against her shoulder and neck as he poured into the condom. In the back of his mind, he cursed the barrier and couldn’t wait until they could do away with them again. Soon, he reminded himself. 

Rolling beside her, he dealt with the sticky mess before turning back to her, pulling her close. 

“I love you” she whispered, placing a kiss over his heart. “And I missed this. This closeness and intimacy. The orgasms” she laughed. 

“I love you back” he replied, kissing her forehead. “And so did I” he admitted. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you--losing this forever.” 

“Fortunately for you, you’re stuck with me” Sansa reminded him. “Apparently, I am not that easy to get rid of.” 

Jaime barked out a short laugh, shaking his head, “Don’t even joke about that. Please.” His father's words, 'emotional wreck' echoed in the back of his mind and he knew that he wouldn't be able to survive losing Sansa.

“Have to, or I will go insane” Sansa snuggled close to his side. “Don’t get too comfortable, Lannister, as soon as you’re recovered, we’re going again.” 

“Yes ma’am” he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. The quiet of the apartment was almost unfamiliar to him now, but he was certainly going to take advantage of it. He had quite a bit of lost time to make up for, and he was more than happy to oblige her for the entire night. 

‘Meow.’

_Well, maybe not the entire night_ he thought to himself, feeling badly that Elle was relegated to the hallway. He’d let her in later, he decided as Sansa’s hand travelled his bare chest. Much later.


	26. Part 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you all so much for the love and support you've shown this story so far! I know you have all been anxiously awaiting this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> We're also bringing in another beloved character that I think you will approve of! <3

They followed the corrections officer as he led them down the barred corridors and through a secured door into a brightly lit visiting room. The table and chairs were made of metal and bolted to the floor, and the window along the far wall had a metal grate covering it, also securely bolted in place. 

Jaime spotted Brienne’s lawyer, Mr. Goodwin standing near the window, looking decidedly nervous. 

“Mr. Lannister, Mr. Lannister, thank you for coming” Goodwin approached and offered his hand. Jaime reluctantly shook it, knowing that he could hardly blame his anger at the situation on the older attorney. 

“I just want to get this--all of this over with” Jaime assured him.

“As do I” Goodwin admitted. “I have her confession here” he turned to his briefcase where it sat on the table, and pulled a few pages free. “Signed and notarized.” 

“It covers everything” Jaime took the papers, reading over everything that Brienne had written out. 

“I believe so, yes” Goodwin nodded. 

Jaime didn’t reply, merely nodded in agreement and crossed towards the window as he read over the statement. It made him feel physically ill to read, in Brienne’s own hand, what she had done to Sansa. She confessed to stalking them, to having photographs of him and Sansa in her apartment, to researching how to cut brake lines, how to poison people, everything. He felt his temper rise from disgust as she talked about running Sansa over with a car, running her down in front of her childhood home in the hopes of ‘ridding the world of her and saving Jaime’. 

She had wanted, above all, to save him from Sansa’s clutches, to show him how he should be loved. It was like reading the ramblings of someone descending into madness. 

“This will cover everything with the judge? This will end it?” Jaime asked Goodwin, turning to face his Uncle Kevan who had come with him, acting as his lawyer in this matter. He extended the paperwork to him and Kevan took it, setting immediately to reviewing it. 

Uncle Kevan, his Father’s younger brother, had gone to law school during the course of his studies in business. He had passed the Bar, but chose not to practice privately and instead worked with Casterly and its partners. When Jaime had tapped his Uncle’s shoulder for help in this matter, he was more than happy to help. 

Tywin, as it turns out, had kept Kevan up to speed on everything that had happened and Kevan had been a silent assistant to them all, Addam especially, in procuring necessary legal files and documents. Kevan read through the statement from Brienne in its entirety, and when he finished he lifted his eyes to Jaime’s and gave a nod. 

“Alright” Jaime said to Goodwin. “She gets ten minutes.” 

“Guard” Goodwin motioned to the man at the door and a few seconds later, the sound of footsteps reached them and Jaime looked to the door in time to see Brienne arrive. 

She looked awful, pale and tired, with heavy bruising under her eyes that told the world she hadn’t been sleeping. Her wrists were bound in gleaming silver cuffs, latched to a chain at her waist that had her hands sitting uselessly in front of her. But in spite of it all, there was a firm set to her jaw and shoulders, a pride in her stance and her words screamed in his mind. She sought to be his _savior_ and took pride in that. It made him sick. 

“Jaime” Brienne gave an uncertain smile. “Thank you for coming, I--” 

“I didn’t have a choice, Brienne” he cut her off. “You held the case hostage until I agreed to meet with you.”

“I had to see you” she hurriedly explained. “I needed a chance to explain everything.” 

“Explain” Jaime chuckled, looking to his Uncle who looked as if he were trying to set Brienne on fire with the power of his thoughts. 

“I told you, I told you that Sansa was only going to use you, going to cause you pain and suffering” Brienne made to take a step forward but the guard stopped her before she could move. Obviously this man had been working in corrections long enough that he could anticipate offender’s movements before they even realized they were moving. “I was only trying to help!” 

“Help? Trying to help?” Jaime repeated. “By hitting my fiance with a car? That’s helping? Stalking us? Taking photographs of us while we’re out together, that’s helping? The only pain and suffering I have had in regards to Sansa has been caused by you!”

“Jaime--” 

“No--shut up” he interjected, feeling his control begin to fray. “No, that wasn’t helping me at all, that was helping _you_. I was your friend, your advocate, and a boss that truly cared about your career. I gave you opportunity after opportunity until you were a top name in the design industry. I would have gladly been your friend, Brienne, but we will never--can never be more than that.” 

“Why--” 

“I’m in love with Sansa. I am going to marry _Sansa_” Jaime continued. “And you tried to take her away from me.” 

“Jaime--” 

“You have hurt me, deeply and permanently, and I can never forgive what you have done to her” Jaime argued. 

“I was trying to help you!” Brienne yelled. “We used to work so well together, landed so many large accounts and made some amazing designs. They were like our children and when Sansa came a long, it was like our relationship never existed.” 

“We never had a relationship” Jaime corrected. 

“We did, we--”

“You and I both know that’s a lie” Jaime shook his head. “You tried to kill Sansa in the hopes that I would run to you for comfort, right?” he ran his hand over his lower face. “I hate to break it to you Brienne, but you’re not even on the list of top fifty people I would run to for ‘comfort’--not to mention, if something happens to Sansa, there is no comfort. There is _nothing_ that would make the loss of her bearable.” 

“Jaime, please. She’s changed you, can’t you see that? Before she walked into your office and threw herself at you, were could talk openly, we were close--”

“Close friends, that’s all we were ever going to be” Jaime said sadly. “That is my fault” he felt his shoulders sag. “In a moment of arrogance and vanity I thought it was cute, your little crush. I let you foster it while I went about my life. I should have squashed it at the start--” 

“Don’t say that, please, you don't mean that." 

“Pull it up, root and all, and then none of this would have happened” Jaime shook his head, glancing to his Uncle who was still watching Brienne intently. “I will bear the burden of that regret for the rest of my life” he looked back to Brienne. “But you’re right on one account, Sansa has changed me. Before her, I was coasting through life, riding on Tywin Lannister’s coattails and simply existing. I’d fuck and discard women, I’d use them for my own diversion and move on. Sansa changed all that, and the fact that you couldn’t see that she made me happy--made me feel alive, means that you were never really my friend at all.” 

“It was her, Jaime, her that was going to use and discard you” Brienne explained. “She used you to further her career and to get a promotion. She practically took her clothes off in the conference room, like a bitch in heat!” 

“I hate to break it to you Brienne” Jaime smirked. “She wouldn’t have had to remove a damn thing and I would still have wanted to fuck her in the conference room. I _love_ her, and by some miracle, she loves me. _Me_, the jackass with a frog phone on his desk, a kid who had a hard time learning to read and write, the man who had no idea where he belonged in the world. Me and just me. If I was suddenly penniless, she would still be at my side holding my hand. She’d assure me that everything would be alright, that together we could conquer anything.”

“Jaime--” 

“Just like together we made it through emergency surgeries, intensive care and the idea that she may never be the same when she woke up” Jaime continued. “Love doesn’t just go away when things are bad, and no matter what your perception of my relationship was or is with Sansa, there is no place in our lives for you.” 

“I was just trying to help. I love you, Jaime and I just wanted…” she sagged a bit as tears escaped her eyes. Jaime should have felt remorse, or maybe even guilt at her tears, but he couldn’t muster up the fucks to give. She had made this bed, and now she could have a fucking coma in it for all he cared.

“I know what you wanted, Brienne, but that’s never going to happen” Jaime reasoned softly. “It’s done now, your actions have brought us here and the moment you decided to hurt Sansa, for lack of a better term, we hit the point of no return.”

“I’m not the only one” Brienne clenched her jaw and steeled herself. “Sansa has more enemies than just me. She is a monster who ruins lives--” 

“Of course” Jaime scoffed. “I am sure that you and Catelyn Stark are having a blast reminiscing on your hatred of Sansa together.” 

“Catelyn won’t stop trying to hurt her” Brienne warned.

“She will” Jaime reasoned. “And if she doesn’t, I will keep Sansa safe from all of it. As her husband, as her partner, I will keep her safe.” 

“Your ten minutes are up” Kevan stated simply, nodding to the guard.

“We’re done now” Jaime said to Brienne. “This is done.” 

“I am glad that you came” Brienne said softly. 

“I didn’t do it for you” Jaime replied simply. 

“I….I know” Brienne whispered. 

“My advice?” Jaime continued. “Stay far away from Catelyn Stark. Stay far away from Sansa and I.”

“Thank you, Jaime.” 

“I have also come to bear warning from Tywin Lannister and the rest of the Lannister family” Kevan said gruffly, the large blond man drawing everyone’s attention. “The Lannister family would like you, Brienne Tarth, to understand that if you should find yourself released from prison, you are to travel immediately to the Sapphire Isle and never return. There is no work for you in Lannisport, and you are asked to stay far away. If you are released, a restraining order will be filed and enforced. Protection of Jaime and Sansa Lannister will be first and foremost on our agenda.”

Brienne didn’t reply, but gave a small nod as the guard directed her out of the visiting room. She did not look away from Jaime until she was around the corner and the sound of their footsteps were growing softer and softer. 

“That went well” Kevan chuckled softly as Goodwin seemed to deflate, his entire body relaxing now that it was over.

“I will file the paperwork” Goodwin told Kevan. “Work with the prosecutor to wrap this up.” 

“Keep me in the loop” Kevan pulled a business card from his suit jacket pocket and handed it to the other lawyer. Turning to Jaime, he placed his hand on his shoulder, “You good?” 

Jaime took a deep breath, “Yeah” he nodded. “Yeah, that was...fuck, its over.” 

“It’s over” Kevan agreed, glancing to Goodwin. “And if it’s not, there will be hell to pay” the threat was barely veiled but no less valid and Jaime couldn’t help but wonder what Tywin had said to Kevan about this meeting. 

“Let’s go” Jaime nodded to his uncle. “I’ll buy lunch.” 

“Sounds good to me” Kevan smiled. “A man should never pass up a free lunch.” 

“From the looks of it, you haven’t passed up any lunch” Jaime teased his Uncle as they bid their goodbyes to Goodwin and the guard escorted them back down the corridors. 

“You’re just like your old man” Kevan chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Sometimes” Jaime agreed as they grabbed their personal property from the entrance officer and stepped outside. The sun and fresh air hit him and he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and deliberately, letting the last of the tension escape him. 

“It’s over” Kevan softly reminded him, his presence at his side a comfort. 

“Thank the Gods” Jaime agreed. He had much better things to focus on, like his future with Sansa. Their future. 

Tomorrow, Kevan would go with Sansa to meet with Catelyn Stark and then they could move on together. Leave all of this madness to the past. 

One crazy bitch down, one to go. 

“You’re very determined to make me late” Sansa playfully elbowed him as he crowded her in the bathroom for the tenth time. 

“So?” he smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist to nuzzle his face into her neck. They had gone about getting ready for the day together, a routine she had missed in recent months. She had watched him carefully select today’s suit and tie, even helping him with the knot as he trailed kisses across her forehead. In turn, Jaime watched as Sansa tamed and dried her hair into a fiery curtain and applied a bit of makeup, she was determined to look her very best today. 

_ “Makeup is a modern woman’s armor”_ she had reasoned and he couldn’t fault her for wanting extra help for today’s encounter. 

“Jaime” she sighed, setting aside her mascara and turning to face him. Yesterday after his meeting with Brienne, Jaime had seemed lighter, as if the weight of everything had eased and she was glad to see his easy smile back in place on his lips. He hadn’t told her details of his conversation with Brienne, but from the recap he gave her, it sounded like he gave Brienne a piece of his mind and she was proud that Jaime had stood up to her and hadn’t pulled punches. Kevan had also assured her that Brienne’s confession was thorough and that everything was in place. He had even hinted that he had delivered a warning from Tywin himself. 

That had made Sansa smile, knowing that while the Starks were not her family, she had a loving family here in Lannisport and they had all been united in helping her and Jaime through his debacle. 

Yohn had asked her if she wanted him with her today, but Sansa politely declined, knowing that would only serve to anger Catelyn further. Cersei had also offered to join her, but Sansa would not let Cersei’s temper anywhere near Catelyn. They didn’t need Cersei arrested too. She would take Kevan and he would be able to act as both family member and lawyer, making a note of anything that Catelyn should unintentionally reveal. She would speak with her, then purge her from her mind and move on. 

“I understand that you have to do this” he said softly. “I just wish…”

“That I wouldn’t?” Sansa smiled, running her hands through his hair. “I know.” 

“I just worry” Jaime said softly, lifting her left hand to kiss the knuckles beside her engagement ring. She held firmly to his fingers and she knew that he could feel the tremor of her hand. It hadn’t eased yet and the doctors told her that it would likely remain with her for the remainder of her life. She frowned deeply, grateful that it wasn't her right hand but also upset that she was stuck with a forever reminder of Brienne. 

“I know, but I will be okay” Sansa assured him. “Kevan will be there and so will the guards.”

“Hopefully it is quick and painless” Jaime stepped closer and slid her bottom onto the counter, stepping into the v of her thighs. “And then we can spend a week in bed.” 

“A week?” Sansa sighed as he kissed a path along her jaw. 

“Or two” Jaime kissed her lips as his hands slid up her bare legs, reminding her that she was still only in her bathrobe. She returned his kiss, melting against him and letting the pleasure sink into her weary body. She had always loved kissing him, even from the first wild encounter in the conference room where she had nearly lost her head completely, kissing him was a religious experience. 

It was as he ground himself against her core, her soft whimper echoing in the bathroom, that there was a knock at the door. 

“Fuck” Jaime hissed, pulling back. 

“That would be Kevan” Sansa whispered, licking her lips to savour the last taste of Jaime that lingered there. 

“I, uh” Jaime glanced to his slacks that did little to conceal his state of arousal. “I will get it, just give me a second," he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. 

“Later” Sansa assured him, smoothing her hands over his crisp dress shirt. 

“You bet your ass ‘later’,” Jaime chuckled, stealing a brief kiss and stepping back. “Get dressed, I will get the door” he adjusted himself as he walked away and Sansa hoped that his cock was under control by the time he reached the front door. 

She dressed quickly, wearing dark jeans and a silky white blouse with a grey cardigan over it. She put on a locket that Yohn had given her and carefully pulled the knee-high flat boots on. She was out of her walking cast now, but that didn’t mean her leg was ready for high heels. She settled on the tall leather boots since they would give a bit more support than regular flats. 

By the time she joined Jaime and Kevan, they were sharing a cup of coffee in the kitchen, “Good morning, Uncle Kevan” Sansa smiled, kissing Kevan’s cheek in greeting. 

“Morning” Kevan smiled. “Ready for today?” 

“I am” she smiled, pouring herself a travel mug of the dark brew. “Just want to get it over with.” 

“I understand” Kevan nodded in agreement. “And it is my understanding that Tywin has organized a large dinner for tonight.” 

“Has he?” Jaime asked.

“The paperwork for Brienne went through and she accepted a deal” Kevan explained. “Minimum 20 years before she is eligible for parole.” 

“Oh wow” Sansa felt a bit of tension release from her chest. 

“At the time of the parole board's meeting, we have restraining orders ready to be set in place to protect you both and any children you have in the meantime” Kevan assured her. 

“That’s good” she looked to Jaime who also looked happy with the sentence and the knowledge that Brienne would be out of their lives for a very long time.

“I agree” Kevan finished his coffee and set his mug in the sink. “So does Ty, hence why he has taken the banquet room at ‘Medici’s’ for this evening.” 

“Wow, he is rather serious then” Sansa laughed. 

“All of the family will be there, along with Yohn and your brother. I know that Dorna is looking forward to seeing you again” Kevan explained. 

“Oh good! That will be lovely, I haven't seen her since Cersei's party” Sansa smiled, looking forward to the gathering. “It will also be nice to have everyone together.” 

“I think he means to make it something of an engagement party” Kevan chuckled, clapping Jaime on the shoulder. “We’d better hit the road.” 

“Right” Sansa agreed. She crossed to kiss Jaime quickly. 

“Be careful” he whispered. 

“I will” she promised. “I love you.”

“Love you too” Jaime stole one more kiss and then she was following Kevan out of the apartment, bracing herself to face the demon from her past. 

The loud buzz of the door’s lock echoed in Sansa’s ears, pulling her back from the odd haze she had fallen into as they were escorted through the jail’s corridors. Beyond the visiting room they were waiting in, she could hear talking, yelling and even laughing from the other prisoners, an echoing cacophony that faded into the background as footsteps approached. 

“You alright?” Kevan asked softly from his seat beside her. 

“Yeah” she nodded, folding her hands into her lap. The bench and table were made of some sort of metal grate, coated in plastic in such a way that reminded her of a high school courtyard. The visiting room was bright, thanks to a barred window, but the smell was musty and cold. She just wanted to get this over with. 

She looked up as an orange-clad form appeared in the hall and she realized how unprepared she was for the sight of Catelyn Stark in the flesh. She looked much the same, but she had clearly aged--perhaps even had some plastic surgery in the years since she had last seen her. Her hair was long and a bit frizzy, the shade of deep auburn one that was burned into Sansa’s memories. Growing up she had wished her hair was darker, less ginger and more auburn like her Mother’s, but now Sansa was grateful that they weren’t the same shade. 

Catelyn crossed to the table and sat on the bench across from her, those Tully blue eyes watching her intently. 

“Look at you” Catelyn looked her over, eyes marking every detail of Sansa’s person. “You’re more beautiful than I could have hoped for.” 

“Am I?” Sansa scoffed. 

“For a while there, I figured you for a lost cause” Catelyn added. “But you’re quite the beauty. Shame.” 

“Shame” Sansa repeated, barely resisting the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Even now, clad in an inmate’s jumpsuit, with frizzy hair and a chipped manicure, Catelyn Stark still thought she was better than everyone around her. 

“I was surprised when you asked to meet with me” Catelyn continued. 

“I don’t want to be here” Sansa replied coolly. “I have no desire to share the same air as you, but it is something that I have to do.”

“You act as if I am some sort of dragon that you must slay” Catelyn gave a flippant laugh. 

“You are” Sansa countered. “You have no concept of who you are--really are, beneath the facade of Lady Stark. You never have.”

“I was a good mother--a good wife” Catelyn’s face hardened. 

“A good mother to Robb, perhaps” Sansa corrected. “A good wife remains to be seen. I don't remember you two being affectionate and, after all, he didn’t exactly stay faithful did he?” 

“How dare you!” Catelyn hissed, slamming her hand onto the grated table. 

“You tortured me” Sansa said. “You abused me, starved me and made my life a living hell to the point that my eighteenth birthday lingered on the horizon like the lights of Heaven. You’re a monster, Catelyn Stark.” 

“You were unruly” Catelyn reasoned. “A headstrong little _ girl_ and I had to show you--teach you, how to be a proper lady.” 

“Right” Sansa laughed softly, glancing to her joined hands as she controlled the urge to climb over the table and strangle her. “I suppose your methods were how you showed that you loved me. Just like cutting me off from the family and telling people I was dead was your way of showing your support of my art career.” 

“Art” Catelyn scoffed, her face contorting into a brief grimace. “What a waste of your beauty. After you spread your legs for that man---did I teach you nothing?”

“You taught me alot” Sansa agreed. “Most specifically, you taught me exactly what I never want to become.” 

“And what’s that?” Catelyn sneered. 

“You.” 

“You bitch” Catelyn abruptly stood but was forced back to the bench by the strong hand of a guard on her shoulder. “I gave you everything, every opportunity. Ballet, etiquette--” 

“Bruises, welts” Sansa interjected. “You burned down my apartment, you tried to kill me.” 

“That was that stupid little bastard, Jon” Catelyn sniffed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “I didn’t do anything.” 

“Attempted murder and the accompanying conspiracy charges don’t reflect that” Kevan interjected and Catelyn turned her glare on him. 

“You have the look of a Lannister about you” Catelyn said. 

“Likely because I am a Lannister” Kevan smirked. 

“Which one are you?”

“Kevan Lannister, Sansa’s attorney” Kevan informed her. 

“Are you” Catelyn turned back to Sansa. “I like to think that I am the one that taught you how to get all these lions under your thumb.” 

“They aren’t ‘under my thumb’,” Sansa corrected. “The Lannisters are my family, not my pawns.” 

“That’s right, you’re to marry one, the young lion” Catelyn glanced to Sansa’s left hand and her eyes grew cold at the sight of the ring that rested there. “But that’s a Royce family ring, however. Couldn’t your lion afford a new one?” 

“This one is important” Sansa resisted the urge to ball her fist and hide it beneath the table. Decades of muscle memory cowering from this woman were trying to take over, but she was going to fight them all off. She was not afraid of Catelyn Stark. Not anymore.

“Yohn was always so attached to you” Catelyn shook her head. “He can’t have children of his own so he made himself your 'white knight', you who reminded him so much of his Mother.” 

“He’s a good man, despite what you think” Sansa replied. “But he is also not who I am here to talk about.” 

“And why are you here?” 

“To see you” Sansa said simply. “To understand that the fault didn’t lie with me, and I see that now. You really are a monster.” 

“Go ahead” Catelyn glared. “Play the victim, play the maiden in distress. I did nothing wrong. I was a good Mother.” 

“No” Sansa shook her head, suddenly realizing that she didn't have to--didn't need to be here. This was an exercise in futility. Catelyn wasn't worth her time. “You were nothing but an abuser. You’re not my Mother and you’re not my family. You’re nothing to me” she made to stand and Catelyn’s hand slammed into the table once more. 

“I am your Mother!” 

“No” Sansa stood smoothy. “You’re a stranger. A figure from a fading nightmare. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Stark. I will see you in court.” She turned away and Kevan stood to follow her from the room when Catelyn’s yelling filled the air.

“You don’t get to walk away from me!” Catelyn argued. “You can’t escape me that easily!” 

“We’re done here” Sansa paused to turn back to her, finally, blessedly feeling nothing as she looked into the enraged eyes of Catelyn Stark. “And I can’t wait for our time in court, it should be very enlightening for the world to catch a glimpse of the real Stark family.” At this, Catelyn paled and Sansa gave a small smile at having knocked her fury down a peg. 

“What---What do you mean?” Catelyn tried to compose herself. 

“I am going to do what you did you my home--burn it all down” Sansa promised and nodded to Kevan, and then they were walking together back down the corridors. Catelyn was yelling--screaming really, more threats and promises that Sansa couldn’t escape, but her steps never faltered, carrying her back to the parking lot where Kevan’s car awaited. 

“You know” Kevan smiled as he unlocked the sleek black sedan with the key fob. “I think that went rather well.” 

“I meant what I said” Sansa promised. “I am going to burn her world to the ground when she takes this to court.” 

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Maybe a small fire or two” Sansa smirked as he opened her door for her. “How do burgers sound?”

“They sound perfect” Kevan helped her into the passenger seat and closed it behind her. Sansa buckled herself in, sagging against the leather seat as a million memories seeped from her body. 

The woman who had haunted her, the beast in her nightmares, was nothing but a pathetic, greedy woman. She had no fangs, no physical strength and no superpowers, she was just a manipulative, cruel person. 

And now at last, she was nothing to Sansa. 

She was free. 

Kevan slid behind the wheel and hit the push button start, “You alright?” he asked as he buckled himself in. 

Sansa didn’t realize that she had been crying, a few silent tears trailing down her cheeks. She wiped them away and smiled, “Yeah, yeah I am.” 

Kevan watched her for a moment and then nodded, “Alright then. Burgers it is.” 

As Kevan piloted them back onto the road and towards town, Sansa pulled her phone from her pocket and sent Jaime a quick text; _All done. Am OK. Burger time. Love you. <3 _ She smiled as she hit send and locked her phone, relaxing into the seat and simply enjoying the drive.


	27. Part 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love and support! I can't believe how far this fic has come (and how long it is)! I am overjoyed that you all love it so much! 
> 
> Reminder, all of the picsets for this story are here;  
[HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189074729641/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/)  
Check out these amazing picsets from; ['dmchnknst'](https://dmchnknst.tumblr.com/post/189310978700/inspired-by-the-magnificent-fic-sans-serif-by/) , ['sweetaprilbutterfly'](https://sweetaprilbutterfly.tumblr.com/post/189925661258/au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion-meets-his/) and ['birdebee'](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/190175827941/au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion-meets-his/)!
> 
> SPOILERS before Ch.9 - [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189818577906/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/)  
SPOILERS before Ch.16 - [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189983117246/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/)  
SPOILERS before Ch.24 - [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/190360254116/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/)

“We’re going to be late” Sansa gasped as her back met the wall, Jaime’s body pinning her in place. 

“Like I fucking care” Jaime panted against her neck, his hands frantically lifting the hem of her deep blue dress. They were supposed to be at Medici’s Restaurant in twenty minutes for the large family dinner that Tywin had arranged, but Jaime seemed to have other plans. 

“Jaime---oh fuck” she sobbed as he moved her panties aside to stroke her folds. She was already soaked, her body obeying Jaime’s unspoken commands. As it always did. 

After Kevan had dropped her off back at the apartment, Sansa had immediately taken a scalding shower, cleaning away the smell of the correctional facility and the last vestiges of Catelyn Stark that had stuck with her through lunch. Jaime had arrived home shortly after she finished scrubbing her skin to a bright shade of pink, and they had fallen into bed together in a frantic tangle of clothing and desperation. They were finally free of the demons that had been bogging them down these last few months. Weight had been lifted from their shoulders and they could finally, at last, relax.

When they had been forced, by obligation to The Great Lion, to clean themselves up and make their way downtown, they had reluctantly done so but lingered in the shower together perhaps a bit too long. They had rushed through dressing, a suit for Jaime and a flowing dress with flats for Sansa, and they had almost gotten to the door when Jaime had descended, pulling her back into his arms and kissing her deeply. 

He had a lot of time to make up for, he would say by way of explanation. All the time he had spent at her bedside or helping her to recover from the incident—since it was no accident, he was very determined to show her how much he had missed her. 

Not that she was complaining. 

“Just once more” Jaime whispered, his body holding hers against the wall as he undid his belt and slacks with a quick hand. 

“Famous last words” Sansa teased licking a trail along his jaw to his ear. 

“Fuck—knock it off” he gave a breathless laugh as he freed his cock. 

“Never” she retorted, her laughter melting into a sigh as he shifted closer and the head of his cock found her slick opening. He didn’t tease her long, instead lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist and sank home, stretching her in the most delicious way. 

“Fuck” he growled, seating himself fully inside of her and holding. She could feel every inch of him, the racing beat of his heart echoing through their connection. 

“So good” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

In the back of her mind, she realized that they were in the exact same position that they had been after their first dinner together. Granted, her apartment was no longer in existence, but instead they were in _their_ apartment, the one they shared and the one they would being to build their life together in. 

“Hey” Jaime’s soft whisper pulled her from her musings. 

“It’s been almost a year,” she said softly, running her hands through his hair. 

“Best year of my life” he smirked that boyish smirk she loved so much. “Well, aside from a few...minor hiccups.” 

Sansa laughed, shaking her head, “I’d do it again” she promised. “I would have handled some things differently, but I would still take the hit from the car, just to be here with you” she giggled. 

“Me too,” he agreed, kissing her softly. “I love you, so fucking much that I can’t explain it or quantify it, but...you’re everything good in my life, and I can’t wait to marry you.” 

“You just can’t wait to knock me up” she tightened her legs around his waist and he groaned in response. 

“That too” he replied, rocking against her. 

“Fuck” Sansa sighed, he head lolling back against the wall. 

“That’s my girl” Jaime encouraged, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had them both panting and gasping for air. Her body was still sensitive from their earlier ‘relaxation’ and Sansa felt every movement acutely—it was wonderful. 

In her purse that lay discarded on the floor, she heard her phone ringing and laughed to herself; leave it to them to be late to their own engagement dinner. It was either Cersei or Tywin and she was definitely not going to be answering. 

Instead she focused on Jaime, focused on her fiancé and the way his body felt against hers. The deep, clean scent of his cologne and shampoo, the way his back flexed against her calf muscles and the way his hands held onto her ass with a tight grip that spoke of barely controlled desperation. 

She’d endure getting hit by a car a thousand times, as long as at the end of each day she was in his arms, safe and loved. 

Her climax snuck up on her with the grace of a freight train and soon she was screaming out against the warm flesh of his neck as he sped his hips to fuck her roughly, thoroughly into the wall. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come” Jaime groaned, hips pistoning hard and fast. Sansa couldn’t form a reply her body had catapulted to ‘cloud 9’ and she wasn’t sure she would be able to function for the rest of the night. She held tightly to him as he came, hips stuttering and then slamming deep as he poured into her with a broken growl. His legs nearly gave out, but he managed to lower them gracefully to the entryway floor, both of them a crumpled heap as her phone rang from her purse once more. 

“I can’t feel my brain” she laughed, kissing him softly. 

“Good.” 

“How are we going to get through this dinner now?” 

“No idea” he laughed and Sansa shook her head. 

“They’re going to know the instant they see us.” 

“Let them” Jaime took her left hand and raised it to his lips, placing a kiss beside her engagement ring. “It is no secret that we’re in love. I am not ashamed of it.” 

“Neither am I” Sansa paused. “I would just rather not face our father’s smelling like sex.” 

“Good point” he chuckled. “We better keep the windows down in the Uber over.”

Sansa laughed, nodding in agreement, “Let me clean up, then we can go.”

“Alright” he pulled her closer for one more kiss and they reluctantly resumed their preparations for leaving. 

“There you are!” Tywin sighed as they arrived in the secluded back banquet room at Medici’s. 

“Here we are” Jaime smirked as Tywin and Sansa shared a quick hug, his father placing a kiss on Sansa’s cheek. It was hilarious to him that Sansa had The Great Lion so thoroughly wrapped around her finger, though his father would likely never admit it. 

“Sorry we’re late” Sansa said with a smile. 

“All is forgiven” Tywin assured her, guiding them into the crowd. It seemed as if every Lannister had turned up for the party, blonde heads filling the room around them. Tormund, Bran and Yohn were standing with Kevan and Dorna near the corner, and Jaime was surprised to see the dark, curly hair of Jon Snow as well.

“He’s become quite an ally in the case against Catelyn” Tywin said softly, as if reading Jaime’s thoughts. “We’re just working on rounding out his more _worldly_ education.” 

“He’s still a cunt” Jaime replied softly and Sansa elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow--!”

“Oh my Gods” Sansa whispered, looking to the doorway where Cersei has just arrived, Robert Baratheon at her side. 

“Holy shit” Jaime choked out a laugh, quickly concealing it with a cough, covering his mouth. 

In his mind’s eye, they were an odd couple and he had always had a hard time imagining his sister with someone like Robert Baratheon. But the reality of seeing them together was nearly humorous. Robert was close to six and a half feet tall, broad of frame and built like an ox while Cersei was closer to five and a half feet, slender and golden, positively dwarfed beside him. They were the quintessential ‘Mutt and Jeff’ couple, a sight to behold. 

“She’s got balls the size of Buicks” Sansa whispered and Jaime barely held in his snicker. As they watched, Cersei and Robert moved confidently into the crowd, greeting Tyrion and Tysha before making the necessary but not-quite-necessary introductions. It wasn't as if there was a person in the room that didn't realize Cersei had just walked in with Robert Baratheon, the man who was poised to remain Casterly's top competitor and a man well known for his prowess with society ladies. 

“She’s gone mad” Tywin mused aloud and Jaime turned to his father. 

“She’s been mad,” Jaime countered. 

“Of all the men” Tywin shook his head, chuckling to himself before turning to Jaime. “I suppose you’re lucky Robert didn’t bring Stannis along, eh?”

“Funny” Jaime said dryly, clearly not amused at his Father’s jest. 

“I’d say you can rest easy, as you’ve put a ring on Sansa’s finger, but still” Tywin advised. “Marry her quickly” Tywin winked and straightened his jacket. “Wish me luck, I am going to do my best to make him cry” he turned and made his way to Cersei and Robert, The Great Lion hard at work as tonight’s host. 

“We’re not the only ones who were late for _personal_reasons” Sansa whispered, giggling near his ear. 

“A visual I don’t want or need, thank you very much” Jaime grimaced and Sansa laughed, her slender frame shaking in amusement. 

“Sansa!” Dorna greeted as she dragged Kevan over to say hello. 

“Dorna” Sansa hugged the older woman and Jaime shook his Uncle’s hand. “It’s so good to see you.” 

“It’s been too long, I am glad to see you’re up and around” Dorna smiled brightly, holding Sansa’s hands. “You look wonderful.” 

“Thank you” Sansa beamed. “And thank you for all the flowers and food you sent along. I am very grateful for your help.” 

“It’s no problem” Dorna assured her. "What is family for if not to help each other during time of need?"

“Just think '' Kevan smirked as he looked pointedly to where Tywin was talking to Cersei and Robert. “No matter how awkward your talks with your Father are, nothing will ever compare to that conversation right there.” 

“Thank the Gods for that,” Jaime agreed, wrapping his arm around Sansa’s back, fitting her snugly her to his side. 

“At least your Father likes me” Sansa smirked. 

“I am fairly certain that he likes you more than he likes me” Jaime reasoned and Kevan nodded in agreement.

“You’re probably right on that one,” his Uncle teased. 

“Gee, thanks” Jaime scoffed. 

“You’re welcome” Kevan smirked, both men grabbing a few glasses of wine as the waiter passed by. 

“Thank you” Sansa smiled as he handed her a glass. 

“You’re very welcome” Jaime leaned in to kiss her forehead and when he pulled back, he noticed that Cersei and Robert were now approaching. 

“Good luck” Kevan took Dorna’s hand and led her away. 

“Coward” Jaime whispered after them as Sansa and Cersei shared a hug. 

“Thank the Gods you look human again” Cersei teased Sansa. “All healed? Can we go shopping now?”

“For the most part, and I am ready to shop when you are” Sansa smiled, turning to Robert’s large form and raised her brows expectantly. Robert looked decidedly out of place, his inky black hair and bright blue eyes a contrast to the Lannister gold, but he had dressed sharply in a dark suit and looked every inch the doting boyfriend. 

“Oh right” Cersei pat Robert on the chest. “This is Robert, my...my Robert—as I am sure you’ve figured out. Robert, this is my brother Jaime and his bride-to-be, Sansa.”

“I’ve heard all about you, Sansa” Robert said as he shook her hand and then Jaime’s.

“Have you?” Sansa smiled. 

“Stannis talked about you like you were the one that got away” he chuckled and Jaime clenched his jaw. "I never would have imagined Stannis chasing after a woman the way he panted after you."

“Does he?” Jaime ground out.

Robert must have noticed the tension in Jaime’s words because his smile faltered for a second, “Yes, well, he was quite eager for Sansa to come work at STAG.” 

“Who wouldn’t be” Cersei said flippantly, diffusing the situation. “Sansa is the best.”

“I would be inclined to agree with you” Jaime nodded to his sister. 

“I don’t know” Robert chuckled. “Your ‘#wheresSansa’ campaign was quite intriguing, very creative.” 

“Next thing you know, you’ll be offering me a job” Jaime smirked, sipping from his wine. 

“Wouldn’t that be a coup—oh, thank you” Robert countered as the waiter passed once more and Cersei grabbed her and Robert a glass of wine. The expression on Robert’s face when he looked at Cersei was one he had never seen on the man before. Not, of course, that Jaime was familiar with all of Robert’s expressions, but they had worked and lived in the same circles for years, long enough for him to have formed an opinion of the man. 

Here, however, with Cersei’s arm on his in the crowd, he stood tall, proud and utterly smitten beside her, like a puppy, eager to please. Robert watched Cersei’s movements with unabashed awe and a soft affection in his deep blue eyes. 

Cersei had always been closed-lipped about her dalliances and affairs, so Jaime didn’t know all of the details of their relationship; but the simple fact that she had brought Robert here tonight was enough to tell the world that this was more than just sex. 

Not to mention, Robert’s puppy dog expression every time he looked at Cersei. 

Sansa’s hand slid into his where it sat on her waist, giving it a quick squeeze and he was fairly certain that she was seeing the same affection that he was. Good, he allowed his shoulders to relax. Cersei deserved to be happy, he couldn’t fault her for chasing her happiness, just as he had pursued his. 

They were spared any further awkward conversation as a long line of servers appeared from the kitchen and the side buffet tables were filled with food. Gods, his Father had certainly gone all out for the occasion, Jaime mused, there wasn't an inch of table that wasn't covered with pasta, bread or side dishes. 

“If I may” Tywin addressed the room, standing regally with a glass of Arbor Gold Wine in his hand. At his side, Yohn stood just as proud, both men smiling widely. “Before we indulge ourselves with far too much delicious food and wine, we would like to propose a toast” he turned to Sansa and Jaime, raising his glass. “It has certainly not been an easy path, fraught with frog phones and cliche sinister villains, but I dare say it makes the path all the more cherished. May your future be bright, your affection constant and your marriage filled with little lions.”

“Subtle” Jaime chuckled. 

“To Sansa and Jaime” Tywin raised his glass and everyone followed suit. 

“Sansa and Jaime” they all repeated, and the clinking of glasses echoed in the room. 

“I believe” Yohn said with a smile to Sansa. “That it is a Father’s prerogative to give the man who is stealing his Daughter away, a bit of a hard time” he began with a smirk. “Jaime, however, saved me the trouble of taking out a billboard of embarrassing photos and did the deed himself” Yohn teased and everyone laughed softly. “I wish you both every happiness, I wish you both long lives at each others’ sides, and that your every dream comes true” he raised his glass. “To my darling Sansa and the man who has won her heart.” 

“To Jaime and Sansa” Tywin echoed and everyone toasted once more. Jaime looked to Sansa and saw the sheen of tears in her eyes as she blew Yohn a ‘thank you’ kiss and a moment later, Yohn joined them, hugging her tightly. 

“Thank you” Sansa whispered to her Father. 

“You’re very welcome” Yohn kissed her forehead before turning to shake Jaime’s hand. “Welcome to the family” he said with a smile and pulled Jaime into a tight embrace. 

“Thank you” Jaime smiled over Yohn’s shoulder to Sansa who was watching them with a soft expression. 

“Now let’s eat!” Tywin announced and everyone cheered in response, but Jaime was still watching his Sansa, thanking every God, Old or New, that she was still here to celebrate this moment at his side. 

_I love you,_ she mouthed to him and he blew her a kiss as Yohn released him. 

_I love you too._

“I ate too much” Tormund announced as he collapsed across the couch in the living room. 

“Me too” Sansa agreed, her head resting on Jaime’s shoulder as he carried her piggy-back style into the apartment. 

“I am fairly certain that you ate your weight in pasta” Jaime teased, lowering her to the loveseat where she collapsed with a very dramatic sigh. 

“So?” Sansa quipped. “I earned it!”

“I will put all this in the fridge” Bran locked the front door and carried their large to-go bags into the kitchen. 

“Thank you!” Sansa called out after her brother and Jaime sat on the loveseat beside Sansa, lifting her legs to lay them across his lap. 

“Your Father sure knows how to throw a dinner party!” Tormund said and Jaime node in agreement. 

“That he does” Jaime said. 

“I am never eating carbs again” Sansa groaned. 

“Serves you right” Jaime smirked over at her. “I think you even ate more than Robert—Ow!” He winced as she slapped his arm. “Careful, I am fragile!” 

“Fragile my ass!” Sansa glared. “Take it back!” 

“Fine, fine,” Jaime laughed. “I take it back.”

“Good” Sansa stuck her tongue out at him. “Meanie.”

“I am far, far from a meanie” Jaime trailed his fingers up her leg and to the hem of her dress, toying with the fabric. 

“Stop” Sansa whispered, grabbing his hand to halt its upward progression as Bran emerged from the kitchen to sit beside Tormund, the Wilding Man-Friend resting his head on Bran’s leg. 

“What do you think?” Bran asked, grabbing the remote. “Movie?” 

“Movie!” Sansa agreed. “I need more time to digest before I go to bed or I will turn into a lasagna while I sleep” she laughed and Jaime nodded in agreement. 

“Movie.”

Jaime was pulled from his emails by a knock at his office door, and when he looked up he was surprised to see Ashara Dayne standing in the doorway. 

“Ms. Dayne” he stood, rounding the desk he offered his hand and she shook it with a terse smile. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, but actually, no” she replied. “I had heard several distressing rumors and I wanted to come speak with you about them, to sort them out from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.” 

“Of course, please have a seat” Jaime motioned to the chair across from his desk and she sank into it gracefully. 

“First off, I would like to inquire after Sansa—is she ok?” 

Jaime nodded, “She is now, though it was rather rough there for a while” Jaime replied. “She is strong and she has nearly fully recovered.” 

“I am glad to hear it,” Ashara replied. “Obviously, I knew that there was some bad blood between her and Brienne Tarth, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.” 

“I don’t know if any of us did” Jaime told her truthfully. “Things escalated quickly and I don’t think any of us saw that coming.” 

“I can’t imagine you would” Ashara agreed. 

“No” Jaime frowned. 

"That was...well, it will likely always be the most interesting meeting I have ever attended."

"It was indeed unique."

“Regardless, I am very glad to hear that she is recovered” Ashara said. “Especially glad as I would like her to illustrate a few pieces for The House of Starfall, if she is available.” 

“I am sure she would love to work with you, I can give her your information” Jaime assured her. 

“Thank you, I would be very grateful” she replied, pulling a business card from her purse and handing it across the desk to him. “I had heard that she had an accident, of course, and then I hear that she parted ways with Casterly, so I wasn’t sure if she would be open to working with me.” 

“I know that she greatly respects you,” Jaime assured her. “And her parting with Casterly was more personal than business. She is going to pursue painting full time and I could never fault her for that choice. She is too good of an artist to keep behind the closed doors of an office, regardless of the view.” 

“I couldn't agree more,” Ashara nodded. “I admit, when Sansa and I met for coffee—when we talked about Brienne and the _Lovers in Moonlight_, I felt like I was speaking with a kindred spirit. She is an old soul, I think, and I admire that.” 

“I’m sorry, did you say that she met with you?”

“Yes, we spoke before the now infamous pitch meeting. Offline of course, but Sansa was very concerned with how Casterly would look in all of this madness. She didn’t want to negatively affect your name or company, you surely understand that?” Ashara explained and Jaime nodded, smiling at the realization that Sansa was, as always, two steps ahead of the rest of them. 

“I can understand that, yes,” he assured Ashara. “And now that the mess with Brienne is behind us all, I am hoping that Sansa is able to move back into her painting with ease.” 

“Which would be beneficial to me, as I am looking to release an exclusive line of handmade kimonos with Sansa’s lovely art on them” Ashara smiled and Jaime leaned back in his chair in surprise. 

“Kimonos?” 

“I think that Sansa’s unique style of painting would translate well to Medieval or Renaissance tapestry designs, and those would be stunning on kimono coats” Ashara explained. “Her art is simply too beautiful to confine to a wall. It should be worn--flaunted.” 

“I would be inclined to agree,” Jaime nodded. “I will give her your information tonight and I am certain that you will be hearing from her.” 

“I am glad to hear it” she grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder as she stood. “I will get out of your hair now” she glanced at the bright green frog phone on the corner of his desk and her mouth quirked into a smirk, but she didn’t comment. Instead she offered her hand and Jaime stood, shaking it carefully. 

“Thank you for coming by,” Jaime said. 

“Thank you for clarifying things for me, I hope to work with Sansa very soon” Ashara replied and with a nod, was striding back down the hall to the elevators. 

Jaime stared at Ashara’s card for several seconds before he pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo of it, sending it to Sansa with a message; _Guess who was just here looking for you?_. 

Sansa’s reply was almost instant, _ “Oooh, yes! You tell me all about it as soon as you get home!_ Jaime smiled, typing a reply quickly before locking his phone. 

Home, the idea still made him smile. Home, with Sansa. Their home. Granted they were still sharing it with Sansa’s little Brother and his Wildling Man-Friend, but they would be returning to the Far North soon. Then, he chuckled to himself, then all bets were off and he was going to thoroughly enjoy his fiance on every surface he could. 

And when they were sated and exhausted, then he would sit and watch her paint in the nude, her porcelain skin on display in the sunlight of the windows as she worked. He would watch her for hours, his Sansa lost to the world around her as she created stunning artwork. Eventually, someday, he will be able to watch as she created life, too; watch as their children grew within her body. Someday. Soon. 

But first things first, he stood from his desk and adjusted his tie. He had to see a man about a wedding venue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a new picset will be needed soon, especially for the wedding, any suggestions? Advice? Thoughts?


	28. Part 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding you've been waiting for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued readership and support! You are all amazing! 
> 
> There is a new picset for this story, specifically for the wedding chapter, so I hope you love it! You can find it [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/190728484586/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young/)!
> 
> **Special huge thank you** to everyone who either sent me photos, made photo sets or tagged me in posts on tumblr! I love how much you all love this story, and I LOVE seeing the way you see the characters and world I've mushed together. Feel free to send/tag to your heart's content, I love it!

“This isn’t working” Sansa sighed, frowning into the large mirror at the bridal shop. Cersei had used her influence in the world of high fashion and they were currently ensconced in yet another VIP room, disappointment growing by the second. They seemed to have exhausted the supply of bridal shops in their search for the perfect dress. 

“I agree” Cersei stood, setting her glass of champagne on the table between two plush chairs. The other chair was currently occupied by Tormund’s large form, his elbows braced on his knees and fingers steepled as he examined the tulle gown that was wearing Sansa. 

“It’s too much” Tormund said after several minutes of deliberation as Cersei walked around Sansa. 

“I know it's too much” Sansa agreed. “They’re _all_ just too much.” 

“Well, they’re all following the current couture trends” the sales assistant, who was absolutely terrified of Cersei, offered nervously. 

“We’re not arguing that” Cersei stated. “They’re just too much. Too much lace, too much poof--” 

“Poof” Tormund chuckled and Cersei fixed him with an expression that had him immediately silencing his laugh, covering it with a cough. 

The dynamic duo of Cersei and Tormund was, while wholly unexpected, absolutely perfect. Tormund wasn’t afraid of Cersei and Cersei was pleasantly surprised by Tormund’s eye for fashion. Granted, he was a Park Ranger from the Far North, but Cersei had approved of Tormund being the other bride’s maid in Sansa’s wedding party. 

As it stood, it would be Cersei and Tormund standing up with Sansa, and Tywin and Tyrion standing up with Jaime. An odd combination but their family was one of their own making and perfect in its own way. Sansa had considered asking Tyrion’s wife Tysha, but she had recently announced her pregnancy and she was having a difficult time, her activities and walking were restricted for the foreseeable future. 

But Tormund was more than happy to step in, immediately suggesting pink for the dresses as it was his best color. Sansa had laughed, knowing she’d made a great choice. 

“I have an idea” Cersei said suddenly, pulling Sansa from her reverie. In a flash, Cersei was grabbing her handbag, throwing back the last of her glass of champagne and striding from the room. 

“Shit” Sansa picked up the skirt of the over-the-top dress and hurried back into the fitting room. She changed quickly, with the help of the sales assistant, pulling her jeans, sneakers and sweater back on in a rush. When she emerged from the fitting room, it was the same time that Cersei returned. 

“Forget something?” Sansa scoffed sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I did” Cersei glared and grabbed the neck of the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and left a second time. 

“You’d think she’d share” Tormund chuckled as Sansa thanked the sales assistant and they both rushed after Cersei, who was climbing into the backseat of her town car. 

“What’s this idea?” Sansa prompted once they were belted inside, traveling down the crowded city streets.

“Trust me” Cersei raised the bottle and took a drink before handing it to Tormund, who followed suit. 

“Should I be worried?” Sansa laughed. 

“Absolutely” Cersei smirked. “But still, just trust me.” 

“Alright” Sansa relaxed in the chair, watching the cityscape fly by. When they turned down a familiar street, Sansa looked to Cersei who was smiling smugly and the second the car was parked, she was rushing out the door, leaving Sansa and Tormund to give chase. 

Sansa had been to Cersei’s penthouse a few times, the first of which was the party she had attended with Jaime. She had been terrified then, nervous about meeting Jaime’s family and their close friends. But now she was familiar with the layout and its owner, neither intimidating her anymore. Cersei tossed her purse onto the couch, but kept the bottle of champagne in-hand as she made her way to the large second bedroom that served as her closet. 

“Wow” Tormund’s eyes went wide when they entered and Sansa realized that while she knew the extent of Cersei’s couture hoard, Tormund had never seen it before. “This is all vintage Valentino” he pointed to a black dress. 

“You’re Gods damned right it is” Cersei set the bottle on the center island and knelt to grab a sealed box on the bottom shelf of the far wall, carrying it to the dark, wood and velvet chair in the corner. 

“Cersei” Sansa said nervously as her soon-to-be good sister lifted the lid. “How old is this dress?” Cersei didn’t reply, simply removed an air-tight bag from crisp archival tissue paper. “Oh my Gods” Sansa nearly choked when Cersei unzipped the side and the lace slid free for the first time in a long time. 

“That looks like--” 

“It is” Cersei assured him, her fingers tracing over the lace with a reverence that Sansa wouldn’t have expected from someone as abrupt as Cersei. 

“Cersei…” Sansa frowned.

“It’s Chanel, very old Chanel” Cersei smiled softly. “Nothing but the best for the woman who had captured the Great Lion, right?” 

“Cersei, I can’t wear this, oh my Gods” Sansa shook her head. 

“You can and you will” Cersei countered. “It’s been sealed for nearly fifty years, and it's perfect. Your Mother might have been a royal cunt, but mine was Royalty. My Father’s Queen and the most beautiful woman in Westeros” she paused and smiled over at them. “That title is mine now, thank you very much.” 

“Cersei” Sansa did her best to blink back tears. She never would have expected this, to be offered such an important heirloom. “Aren’t you going to want to wear it one day?”

“I am closing in on my late-late thirties,” Cersei shook her head. “I have never been the type to dream of a wedding or children. I will let you give me Nieces to spoil rotten. Besides” she shrugged. “Neither Robert or I are rushing to the altar, and we’ve been together for years” she unfurled the gown and held it up. “Put it on.” 

“I---okay” Sansa swallowed back her emotions and kicked off her sneakers. Though she didn’t ask, Tormund automatically turned to go through the impressive display of vintage dresses along the wall. The sight of the Wildling Man-Friend and his wild beard was an odd juxtaposition amidst Cersei’s prized closet. The dress was as such that she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra, so she shed everything but her panties and Cersei helped her into the dress. It was sleeveless, which worked perfectly as Sansa was a bit taller than Joanna had been, but in her flat feet, it touched the floor perfectly. 

“There” Cersei stepped back, looking her over. “Perfection.”

“You look beautiful” Tormund moved to Cersei’s side, looking her over. 

“Fuck, I’m good” Cersei raised a brow and she and Tormund shared a quick low-five in celebration. 

Sansa moved carefully to the floor length mirror, tears flooding her eyes as she looked over the dress. It really was perfect; from the deep but modest ‘v’ neckline, to the pearls and crystal beading, it was a dream come true. She raised her trembling left hand to her stomach, absently tracing the waist with a smile. 

“You can’t keep it,” Cersei said. “But it will go to your Daughters one day anyway. We’ll make it a ‘Lannister Lady’ tradition.” 

“Thank you” Sansa turned back to the blonde woman and embraced her. “It’s perfect.” 

“Oh, I know it is, my Mother had impeccable taste. That's where I get it from” Cersei agreed, hugging her back. Tormund’s arms came around them both, his plaid shirt clad arms almost comical against Cersei’s Prada dress and Joanna’s wedding gown. 

“I love you guys” Sansa smiled. 

“Just promise me one thing” Cersei reasoned as they ended their embrace. 

“What?”

“I have to be the first one you tell when you’re pregnant” she laughed. “I have a lot of planning to do.” 

Sansa shook her head, “Fine, I can do that. First _after_ Jaime.”

Cersei scoffed, “First.”

Sansa glanced at Tormund who only shrugged in response, “Fine” Sansa agreed. “Deal.”

“Excellent.” 

“Did you find a dress?” Jaime asked, flopping onto the bed beside her. Elle was asleep on the chair in the corner, curled up in the evening sun while Sansa had lost herself in a book while waiting for Jaime to return home from work. 

“I did” Sansa closed her book and tossed it aside. “It's a surprise, hidden at Cersei’s so you can’t sneak a peek at it.” 

“That was the last piece” Jaime smiled, hauling her closer.

“Well it wasn’t like I waited until the last moment, only I couldn’t find the perfect dress” Sansa explained, kissing his chin. 

“And is this one perfect?”

“Beyond perfect” she smiled, hoping that Jaime would be as in love with the dress as she was. 

“Good,” he replied. “Less than one month, you’ll officially be a Lannister. My Lannister.” 

“Not that you’re counting” she teased. 

“23 days, and yes I am” Jaime replied without shame. “I have been counting down since we set a date.” 

“You’re adorable” she laughed. “You’ve put more planning into this wedding than I have.”

“I want it to be perfect. Cersei's taken to calling me Princess Twinkle-Lights,” he said with a soft smile. “My Father has been hard at work ensuring Casterly Rock is ready too. There hasn’t been a wedding there since he wed my Mother, I think he’s a bit sentimental about it.” 

Sansa smiled, her heart warming at the idea that Joanna’s dress would finally be back at The Rock, and she felt a pang of nerves at how Tywin would react to seeing it on her. Cersei had assured her that it would be alright, she just would have to trust her maid of honor on this one. 

“Do you think” Sansa asked. “Once the wedding is over and the media dies down a bit, that Catelyn will take the deal?” 

Jaime frowned, “I don’t know.” 

The prosecutors and lawyers had, with permission from the entire Lannister-Royce group, had offered Catelyn Stark a plea deal that would avoid the circus of a trial and give her a slightly reduced sentence. Though, given the length of the term she’d spend in jail, she wasn’t likely to leave jail alive. And that was aside from the charges she faced regarding the death of Mya Stone.

“I really don’t want to have to drag everyone into the mud, but I will do it” Sansa promised. 

“I know” Jaime nodded. “It isn’t like they’re going to be back in your life regardless, but it could make things harder for Bran if he’s going to try to care for Rickon.” 

Sansa nodded, “Bran said that Arya’s pregnant--pretty far along from my understanding. I guess one of Tormund’s friends saw her and told him.” 

“I thought she wasn’t exactly on intimate terms with her husband” Jaime asked. 

“She isn’t” Sansa said knowingly and Jaime figured out what she was implying. 

“Great” Jaime sighed. “More affairs and bastards, I suppose.” 

“I just hope she is a better parent than the ones we had” she said honestly. 

“That’s all we can hope for” Jaime kissed the tip of her nose. “You, on the other hand, are going to be a fantastic Mother.” 

Sansa giggled as Jaime rolled her atop him, her hair falling over her face and she quickly shoved it back, “Oh am I?” 

“I’m thinking, if it's a boy, a ‘frog’ room would be fitting, don’t you think?” he teased. 

“If our firstborn is a boy, Cersei will murder me.” 

“Ok, true” Jaime agreed. “Ballet--”

“No. No ballet” Sansa immediately cut him off, shaking her head at the onslaught of memories. 

“Princesses then” he said quickly. “Princesses and fairy tales.” 

“That works” she leaned down to kiss him, sinking into the warmth of his lips and the feeling of his arms banded around her, counting down the days until she could finally call this man her husband. 

“It’s a castle” Sansa gaped as the imposing form of Casterly Rock appeared on the horizon. They’d been travelling down the private drive for some time and the landscape finally parted to reveal the ancestral Lannister home. They had battled through a crowd of photographers, kept at bay by security hired for the wedding. They would keep the perimeter and driveway closed to the public and trespassers, only those invited were permitted to enter the estate grounds.

“It’s not a castle” Jaime replied, slowing the car as he parked alongside his Father and Sister’s cars. 

“It’s a fucking castle” she whispered. 

“It's a fucking house” he leaned across the center console to quickly kiss her, unable to stop his chuckle at her wide eyes and gaping mouth. “Come on, I am sure they’re all in the gardens overseeing the set up.” 

“Jaime” Sansa looked to him. “We’re getting married in a castle.” 

“Tomorrow afternoon at 3pm sharp” he smirked. Not that he was counting down the last few hours, not at all. 

“Oh my Gods” she continued her gaping as they exited the car. Jaime took her hand and led her down the familiar path to the side of the house and the expansive gardens that lay beyond. He had spent a fair amount of time here when he was young, less after his Mother passed away, but enough to have pleasant memories of the estate. 

He was right in his guess that everyone would be out in the gardens, and they easily found Cersei and Tywin standing on the veranda, Tyrion and Kevan seated nearby, as caterers and staff bustled around them. Tormund, Bran and Yohn were due to arrive soon as well, rounding out their large, unique family. All of which would be staying at The Rock for the weekend. Tormund was in charge of Elle’s care and transportation, and the Man-Friend had been thrilled to be trusted with that task.

“Oh, finally, you’re here!” Cersei quickly hugged them both and then stole Sansa’s hand, claiming she needed her help with the table layout and all but dragged her away. 

“Nervous?” Tyrion smirked, raising his glass of wine in greeting. 

“Anxious, just want to be married already” Jaime replied, taking a glass that Kevan had poured and extended to him. 

“Words I never thought I would hear my rakish bachelor Nephew say” Kevan teased. 

Jaime laughed, “Yes well, I didn’t know Sansa existed. I wouldn’t be saying them if she didn’t.” 

“She is a good woman” Tywin clapped him on the shoulder. “I am glad you pulled your head out of your ass and went after her.” 

“I am fortunate I didn’t receive the same peptalk the day before my wedding” Tyrion snarked. 

“That’s because your wife is terrified of me” Tywin chuckled. “Can’t imagine why.” 

“Oh, gee, I wonder,” Tyrion said dryly and they all shared a laugh. Tonight, after the large rehearsal dinner that was planned, all of them men would gather in the West wing of the house where the study and pool table was, and celebrate his last night as a single man. 

They had done the same before Tyrion’s wedding and from Jaime’s understanding, the same for Kevan and his Father. A Lannister tradition, of sorts. The women would be on the other end of the house and Jaime would be forced to endure a night of sleeping away from Sansa, something he was not looking forward to. He hadn’t spent a night without her since she came home from the hospital, so he figured he was in for a long night of tossing and turning with Elle to keep him company. 

It would be worth it, because by this time tomorrow they’d be married and he wouldn’t have to spend a night away from her ever again. 

Turning back to the yard, he watched Cersei and Sansa as they plotted and schemed, pointing to various areas around the garden and giving directions. 

Less than twenty-four hours now, he could do this, they were in the home stretch. 

“Oh” Dorna gasped as Cersei zipped the dress into place. “Is that…” Cersei nodded and Sansa smoothed her hands over the dress, still in awe of the stunning beauty and craftsmanship. 

“It seemed only fitting for a Casterly Rock wedding” Cersei said. 

“It's beautiful,” Tysha agreed, her hands resting over the swell of her stomach. Sansa almost felt badly, that she was able to wear Joanna’s gown and Tysha hadn’t. But Tysha was much curvier and from what Jaime had told her of Tyrion and Tysha’s wedding in a posh resort in Lannisport, this dress would have been far too simple. 

“Ty is going to shit himself” Dorna chuckled, smoothing her fingers over Sansa’s sleek updo, making sure the style was perfect. “In a good way, of course.”

The women had spent nearly the entire night eating, drinking and sharing stories, finally crawling into bed around dawn. Cersei had stayed with Sansa, both of them collapsing on the large bed in a haze of too much wine and giddiness. Cersei was the Sister that Sansa had always wanted, and she had truly come to treasure their relationship. 

“Jaime will love it too” Cersei agreed. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” 

“This is real” Sansa whispered, turning to look at herself in the mirror. Cersei’s declaration that it was 'perfect' had a memory surfacing in her mind and she tried to push it away. But when she blinked she still saw the knife in her stomach and heard her voice break as she called for help. 

Like her nightmares in the hospital, she was in an elegant room at Casterly Rock and Cersei had helped her into her gown. But unlike her nightmares, she wasn’t alone as she looked at herself in her wedding ensemble for the first time. She was surrounded by her family and Catelyn was locked far away. She was safe.

“I am Sansa Lannister….” she whispered to herself and she felt a hand slip into hers. 

“San” Cersei said softly, her eyes filled with concern. “You alright?” 

“Yeah” Sansa nodded. “Just a bad memory is all, it's gone now. I’m okay.” 

“Alright” Cersei squeezed her hand and released it, immediately picking up the glass of wine she’d been nursing while they readied. Hair stylists and make-up artists had descended on the house this morning and all of them had been primped and pampered and now looked as stunning as any royal family. 

A knock at the door sounded and Tormund moved to run interference, as Jaime had been trying to sneak in all morning. 

“It’s Yohn” he announced to the room, opening the door enough for him to slip inside. While the bridesmaids were in soft pink dresses, Tormund wore a black tuxedo, only unlike the groomsmen’s ties, which were black, his was a pink to match the women. Pink was, afterall, his color. 

“Oh, Princess” he said, looking her over. “You look beautiful.” 

“Would you all excuse us for a moment” Sansa asked of the others and they retreated into the attached sitting room, giving her a moment with her Father. Yohn looked very dapper in his deep black tuxedo, his silver and white hair neatly tamed and even his bowtie had been tied to perfection. 

While Ned had been invited to the wedding, Sansa had not asked him to give her away. That was Yohn’s and Yohn’s alone, as he was her Father in every way that counted. Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure if Ned had come, and didn’t spare a thought for worrying that he wouldn’t show. 

“You’re the most beautiful bride I have ever seen” Yohn carefully hugged her, mindful of her hair and makeup. 

“It’s Joanna’s dress” Sansa smiled. “Cersei unsealed it for today and it's perfect.” 

“Only because it's on you” he assured her. “And I think these will match” he said, pulling a slim black box from his jacket pocket. “A gift, from your husband to be--who, might I add, has been driving everyone crazy by checking his watch seventy times an hour. I think Tywin is ready to smash every clock in the house.” 

Sansa laughed, battling back tears as she took the box. Her Jaime was quite the romantic at heart, unable to hide the fact that he was more than ready for their wedding day to be over so they could focus on their marriage. 

She carefully opened the box to see a string of ivory pearls nestled against the velvet, “Oh, they’re beautiful” she sighed, picking up the slip of paper that had been folded and tucked underneath them. 

_ “Less than one hour and then we can begin the rest of our lives together”_ she read. _ “I can’t wait to be your husband, and to finally call you my wife. I love you. Always. -J"_ and there was a tiny drawing of a frog in the corner. 

“Will you help me?” Sansa asked and Yohn nodded, lifting the pearls and moving behind her. The cool necklace settled perfectly on her throat and after only briefly struggling with it, Yohn managed to close the clasp. 

“Perfect” Yohn placed a featherlight kiss on her forehead. 

“Ready?” Cersei appeared in the door. "It's time. If we're late, Jaime is liable to call the National Guard." 

“Say the word, I’ve got my car keys in my pocket, we can bolt” Yohn teased.

“I’m ready” she nodded, slipping her hand onto Yohn’s arm as Cersei approached with the bouquet. She took the blooms, a mixture of soft pinks, white and a few succulents thrown in for color, with a trembling hand and held them close. 

“He’s a good man” Yohn said softly. “I wouldn’t trust you to anyone else. He’d fight to the ends of the earth for you, and you deserve nothing less. I love you, Princess.” 

“I love you, Daddy” she replied and then, as if they were in a dream, they were walking. Following the others down the halls and towards the garden. Beyond the open veranda doors, she could hear the mumble of voices and soft music, but they were hard to make out over the blood rushing in her ears and her heart pounding in her chest. While Tysha moved away to take her seat, Tormund and Cersei lined up in front of her, ready to stand up with her as she bound her life to Jaime’s forever. 

“Here we go” Yohn whispered. “Last chance to escape.” 

“I’m not going anywhere” Sansa whispered back with a watery laugh. “Except down this path to get my man.” 

“Alright, Princess. Then, here we go.” 

“Oh” Jaime barely registered his Father’s sharp intake of breath from beside him as Sansa appeared, but he didn’t reply. He couldn’t focus on anything but his Sansa and how stunning she looked. 

She was wearing the pearls he had sent with Yohn only a short time ago, and they matched the dress, the ‘beyond perfect’ dress that she had found. Or rather, he deduced, Cersei had loaned to her. He hadn’t seen his Mother’s wedding dress, beyond photographs, in a very long time, but he would recognize it anywhere. It fit Sansa perfectly, especially since she had chosen to wear flats today so that she wouldn’t be miserable in high heels half-way through the reception--her words. 

It wasn’t lost on Jaime that the last time that dress was worn, was here at The Rock the night his parents exchanged their vows. Till death do us part, words that had rung true and beyond, as his Father had never recovered from the loss of Joanna Lannister. Tywin and Joanna had shared a deep, abiding love, a beautiful love, like the one Jaime had found with Sansa. 

And the fact that Cersei had entrusted Sansa with the precious gown, served to remind him that his family loved Sansa and was welcoming her with open arms. 

Cersei and Tormund took their places on the dais and Jaime stepped forward to meet Yohn and Sansa. He couldn’t wait to see Tormund and Tywin walk back down the aisle together, later. 

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered, tears threatening at the back of his eyes just as hers were suspiciously bright. 

“Who gives this woman today” the Septon spoke. 

“Her Father,” Yohn said confidently and then lowered his voice, “Take care of her, Son” he shook Jaime's hand and he nodded. 

“Always” he agreed as Yohn placed Sansa’s hand in his and he couldn’t stop himself from raising her hand to kiss the back. Together they walked forward to meet the Septon and Sansa handed her flowers to Cersei so they could join hands. 

Everything else in the world faded away. All of the guests, the sound of the fountain a few yards away, everything fell away and his world consisted of Sansa and their vows. A year and a half ago, she’d walked into his office for the first time and that was it, his life changed in an instant and even though they’d experienced their share of heartache, he wouldn’t change a thing. Simply because it had led them here, to this moment where they became husband and wife. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride--” 

Jaime didn’t have to be told twice, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deeply but with a slight bit of self control--they did have an audience after all. When their kiss ended and cheers erupted around them, he held her in his arms for just a moment longer, committing everything to memory. The tears of happiness on her cheeks, the riot of applause and the way her lipstick was smudged--just a little, from their kiss. 

“I love you” she said, her voice shaky with emotion. 

“I love you, _wife_” he stole another kiss. The audience and reception could wait for all he cared, he was going to kiss his wife a bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


	29. Part 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love you gave the wedding chapter! I am so glad you found it as emotional as I did (to write it)! This chapter is the wedding reception/night, as I am sure you have been anticipating. So there's a fair amount of emotion in this one too.
> 
> Soon this fic will be, much to your chagrin, winding down. I just want to make sure I wrap things up properly and don't short change this story. It has become my longest to date, and my most popular by far. I owe all that to all of you, and I am very grateful. Your love and support means a lot to me, and I am so happy you've enjoyed this story. 
> 
> That being said, we're not done yet, but it's coming down the line eventually.

The entire main garden at Casterly Rock was decorated in strings of lights, casting an ethereal glow around them as the sun set on their reception. Tables and chairs sat directly on the grass, and there seemed to be flowers everywhere. 

Sansa and Jaime had been ushered away by their wedding photographer as soon as they had finished their walk back down the aisle together. Now her cheeks were sore from smiling for so many photos, and the moment they were done, Jaime pulled her to the side and let the others return ahead of them. 

“I imagine that I won’t be able to steal another moment with you once we walk into Bedlam” he guided her under the arbor beside the great house, their presence shielded by the wisteria vines and purple blooms that clung to the arbor’s frame. She set her bouquet on the bench beneath the shade, and turned back to her husband. “But I wanted to just….” he took her hands in his, holding them gently.

“I know what you mean” she smiled up at him. He looked so incredibly handsome in his deep black tuxedo, his hair had been trimmed a bit and styled perfectly, giving him a rakish sort of appearance.

“A moment for just us” he explained, looking at their joined hands. “Those look pretty perfect, don't they?” he nodded to their rings. While Sansa’s engagement ring had belonged to Yohn’s Mother, Jaime had had a wedding band made as a surprise. This one, made of white gold with grey diamonds inlaid in the band, fitting perfectly against the antique ring. 

And now, to match, a deep gold wedding band sat on his finger. Lannister gold, he’d smiled when Sansa slipped it onto his finger. It was similar in it's simplicity to the ring his Father had worn everyday for nearly fifty years, and the sentiment was the same. His heart, his soul, everything he was, belonged to Sansa; as it was always meant to. 

“It’s engraved” Sansa told him. “On the inside.” 

“It is?” Jaime hadn’t noticed the detail during the ceremony, not that she had expected him to. They had both been so focused on each other, every other detail had faded away.

“With a sans serif font of course, Lannister” she smirked and he laughed softly. 

“Of course” he agreed. “And you’re a Lannister now, too.” 

“That I am.” 

“Come here” Jaime wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Raising their joined hands, he swayed softly to the distant sounds of the music playing from the reception. “Our first dance should be ours, don’t you think?” 

“Traditionally done with an audience” she teased, moving closer still. “But I absolutely agree.” 

“You’re stunning” he said softly, looking down into her eyes. “You were right, your dress is beyond perfect.” 

“I couldn’t have conjured a more perfect dress” she replied, smoothing her hand over the shirt of his tuxedo. “I rather like you in a tux.” 

“Oh, do you?” he countered. 

“I do” she smiled as Cersei’s voice jumped out above the sounds of the reception, a voice that was steadily growing closer. 

“She’ll find us” Jaime noted. “Drag us to the party.” 

“Can't hardly blame her. It is our wedding reception, after all” Sansa reasoned as Jaime lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly at first, and then deeply, deliciously as his arms wrapped around her. Sansa mewled softly and was doing her best to remain standing as Cersei found them. 

“Good Gods, keep it in your pants!” Cersei scolded and they reluctantly pulled apart to see her with her arms crossed, dramatically tapping her designer shoe on the stone path. “We’re all waiting.” 

“Is this what it's like, having a mean older sister?” Sansa asked Jaime who laughed in response. 

“Oh, I’ll show you mean, missy!” Cersei scoffed. “The party can’t officially start until you two are there--it’s your wedding for fuck’s sake.”

“We’d better go, or the entire family is liable to come hunt us down” Jaime turned away and grabbed Sansa’s bouquet, handing it to her before taking her free hand. 

“Alright” Sansa walked beside her husband, smiling when Cersei fell into step beside them. She knew that Jaime and Cersei had been very close for their entire lives, as twins often were, so it was fortunate that she and Cersei got along so well. Sansa was glad to finally have a sister to call her own, one that she could actually have a relationship with, and was lucky to find it in her husband’s twin. 

“See you inside--try not to stop to make out between here and the reception” Cersei hurried in ahead of them, not wanting to steal their grand entrance. 

“Ready?” Jaime raised their joined hands and kissed her knuckled beside her wedding rings. 

“Ready” Sansa agreed, and together they ventured inside to meet their family and friends. 

“Son” Tywin handed Jaime a glass of arbor gold before standing beside him, both of them watching where Cersei and Sansa were talking with Bran, Kevan and Dorna. A few yards away, Tormund was talking with Jon and a few others, a suspicious Elle sized lump hidden in his tuxedo jacket. He was going to have to make sure that the Wildling Man-Friend didn't try to catnap her when he returned to the Far North. 

“Thank you” Jaime sipped the wine, grateful for something to drink. He had been talking with so many people, he didn’t realize how dry his throat had become. While he had no intention of indulging in more than a drink or two, it was nice to have a glass of wine at his wedding. Gods, his wedding. Finally he could call Sansa his wife, his Lannister, and they could more forward with their lives.

As soon as they’d arrived, they’d been pulled into conversation after conversation, most asking the same questions about how they’d met and about the billboards. They were then pulled away to sit at the head table, but it seemed like they could barely eat for all who came up to talk. 

Their first dance--first reception dance, had passed in a blur of giggles and soft kisses, and Jaime was merely counting down the hours until he could carry Sansa out of here and begin the true celebration. 

“I know,” Tywin began. “That I haven’t always been the best Father, that I was hard on you. All of you. I pushed you to be the best that you could be. Pushed you to succeed and to stand up for yourself. You, more than any” he said and Jaime turned away from his bride to face his Father. 

“You were a hard man to please, but I know that you did your best” Jaime paused. “Losing Mom wasn’t easy for any of us, especially you.” 

“There will never be another woman like your Mother” Tywin replied, clearing his throat. “Of the two of us, she was the warm and loving one, I am sorry that she isn’t here with you today.” 

“She is” Jaime turned back to Sansa. “In some small way, at least.” 

“I haven’t seen that dress in nearly fifty years. Cersei guards it like the Shroud of Turin,” Tywin said softly, watching Sansa for a moment. “Jo would have adored your Sansa, it is only fitting that she wears that dress today.” 

“I think Mom would have loved her too” Jaime agreed just as Yohn and Sansa made their way to the makeshift dance floor. The time for her Father-Daughter dance had arrived, it seemed. 

“And Jaime?” Tywin said and he turned back to his Father, who was smirking deeply. “Watch for that fifth button, it's a bit tricky.” 

“Oh, for fucks sake” he muttered feeling his cheeks heat, he could only shake his head as Tywin’s laughter echoed in the evening air. Jaime turned away, watching as Yohn and Sansa took up position and began to move with the music. 

“Everyone’s watching” Yohn gave a crooked sort of grimace. 

“That’s the point of a Father-Daughter dance” Sansa smiled, laughing softly. “Part of the whole ‘Dad’ role, you have to do the embarrassing things, too.” 

“Not embarrassing, per say” Yohn glanced around them, looking oddly nervous for a man who always seemed to boast such confidence. “Just...public.” 

“I won’t make you suffer long” Sansa assured him. Like herself, Yohn was generally a private man, so they were both a bit out of their comfort zones. “After this, I am going to sneak to the tables and steal all the food I can get my hands on. I am starving, how do people survive these things?”

Yohn laughed loudly, “That’s my girl, always thinking with her stomach” he shook his head. “Hard to believe that the little girl who would smuggle home art supplies is a married woman now” Yohn said quietly, his eyes bright with emotion. “I am so happy for you, Princess.” 

“Thank you, Daddy” she replied, fighting back emotion of her own. She didn’t want to start blubbering in front of everyone, including every known Lannister is the damned country, some of which she was meeting for the first time tonight. “I think he’s a keeper.”

“If not, I know where we can bury the body” Yohn smirked and Sansa playfully smacked his arm as the music came to an end. 

“If I may have this next dance?” Tywin appeared beside them, offering his hand to Sansa. She looked to Yohn, who gave her a small smile and a nod, before excusing himself to Jaime’s side. Tywin took her hand, placing the other at her back and Sansa looked up at him. 

“Does this mean you’re not upset?” she asked softly. 

“Upset?” he frowned. 

“The dress...I was worried,” she admitted softly. 

“It's perfect,” he assured her. “She would have loved you, Sansa, of that I am certain.” 

“I am sorry that I didn’t have a chance to meet her” Sansa said sadly. 

“Unfortunately, cancer waits for no man--or woman” Tywin replied. “She was a singularly lovely woman, and I will always be grateful for the time we did have together. She was unfailingly kind, but she never let anyone take advantage of her kindness. Very much like you in that regard.” 

“Tywin...” 

“I see bits of her in my children. In Jaime, mostly, in his eagerness to see the best in everyone. In Tyrion’s soft heart. Cersei is a force of nature, too much like her old man for her own good” he chuckled, his eyes bright. “So, I am grateful to see a little of Jo’s strong, yet gentle heart in my newest daughter” he added and Sansa promptly burst into tears. She bowed her head slightly, her forehead resting against Tywin’s chest as she tried to control the sobs. 

“Sansa?” Jaime’s voice sounded beside her and she realized that the music had come to a close and they were standing still in the center of the floor. She felt her husband's hand settle on her back, soothing her and helping her to catch her breath.

“The last time I danced with a woman in his dress,” Tywin said softly to them both as he released her. “The years that followed were the best of my life. I wish the same for both of you, only I wish you more of those years than I had. Don’t waste time, savour every moment and never go to bed angry, and perhaps, someday, I will see a little of my Jo in your children, too.” 

“Thank you” Sansa said through her tears as Jaime’s arm banded around her waist, snuggling her to his side. “Thank you, Papa Tywin.” 

Tywin stepped forward and placed a kiss on her forehead, then shook Jaime’s hand before he strode from the floor and to his brother’s side. 

“You alright?” Jaime asked softly. 

Sansa sniffed back her running nose and wiped her eyes, thanking the Gods for waterproof mascara, “Yeah--yeah, I am good.” 

“I was always afraid the Great Lion would make you cry” Jaime teased, making her smile. “I just didn’t think it would be at our wedding.” 

“Can’t scare me away” she smirked, going on her toes to kiss him quickly. “And he’s not the Great Lion. Not anymore.” 

“No?”

“Oh no” she took his hand, leading him towards the head table where she spotted her plate of food, most of which was sitting untouched. “He’s just a big old softy. He’s ‘Papa Tywin’ now” she explained. Jaime laughed, following behind her as she b-lined for her dinner. 

Cersei watched her brother and Sansa as they cut and shared a piece of the wedding cake, neither of them willing to be the first one to shove frosting into the other’s face. It was because they were both too nice, she thought to herself as a large hand settled on her hip. 

“I know your secret” Robert’s deep voice whispered against the shell of her ear. 

“Oh? And what’s that?” she sipped her wine, doing her best to seem unaffected by his touch and the timbre of his voice. She hoped she was succeeding. 

“Though you try to hide it, I see through you. You’re a good woman, Cersei Lannister” he whispered and she hissed. 

“Hold your tongue” she chastised, turning just enough to see the amused expression on his face. “Or better yet, put it to better tasks.” 

“Distract me with your wiles all you want, it doesn’t change the fact that you gave your Mother’s wedding dress to your brother’s bride to wear” Robert’s hand slid around her hip, pulling her back against the solid wall of his chest. “You’re a good woman--and you have a soft spot for your new sister.” 

“Try not to speak so loudly, you oaf” Cersei hid her smile with a sip of her wine. “People might hear you. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“I am sure you do, CeeCee” he chuckled and she felt his lips move away from her ear as he rose back to that damned impressive Baratheon height of his. He always used that damned nickname, knowing it irritated her, but she couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her lips. She’d never had a pet name before and she’d grown accustomed to this one. 

A moment later, his hand snaked around her body and grabbed her glass of wine, raising it to his own lips to steal a sip. Had any other man tried such, she would have deflated one of his testicles with a well-placed knee to the groin. But he wasn’t just any man, and that was the crux of the problem--wasn’t it?

She certainly hadn’t planned on Robert being in her life for as long as he had--nearly five years now if memory served, but she couldn’t seem to find the will to part with the proud stag. To the world at large, Stannis was the brains of Stag while Robert was rumored to go through life in an alcohol-induced haze, but Robert was a surprisingly kind man with a large heart that he kept well hidden. Very well hidden.

She prided herself on being a woman with a sharp mind, and therefore she appreciated a man who could give as good as he got, in more ways than one. Their affair had begun on a whirlwind, all fire and passion that hadn’t seemed to fade. And lately she wondered what exactly _they_ were….

After all, she wouldn’t bring a man who was just her casual lover to Jaime’s wedding---right? 

“Jaime!” Sansa laughed, the sound echoing in The Rock’s halls as her husband scooped her up and carried her the last bit of distance into the huge bedroom that had been decorated for the occasion. 

“It’s tradition” he reasoned, kicking the door closed behind him with an audible crash. 

“Oh my Gods” she laughed. “I didn’t know you were so big on tradition.” 

“I’ll have you know that I only intend to do this once, Lannister” he carefully lowered her to her feet. 

“Well that’s comforting” she snarked, immediately wrapping her hands around his waist to place a kiss on his jawline.

“Wife” he smiled down at her. 

“Husband” she replied, the word settling on her tongue like molten chocolate. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful” his hands travelled up her bare arms to her shoulders, then tunneling into her hair at the nape of her neck. “How is it that you’re _my_ wife?” 

“You hated my typography,” she retorted. 

“True” he admitted with that boyish smile of his. 

“And then you wanted my _pizza_” she leaned closer, her lips ghosting across his. 

“It had been a very long time since I had good _pizza_,” he gently kissed her. 

“Jaime?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t talk about other _pizza_ on our wedding night---ah” she laughed as he picked her up, this time her flats fell from her feet to the hardwood flooring with twin ‘bangs’. He carried her to the huge bed and they fell across it, arms and legs tangled together. 

She wasn’t certain who moved first--it didn’t really matter honestly, because soon their soft, teasing kisses had melted into deep, lustful ones, partnered with wandering hands that were urgently tugging on clothing. 

“As much as I admire how beautiful you are” Jaime said in between kisses. “I really--really want to get you out of this dress.” 

“Yes, please” Sansa agreed, arching closer to him as her brain kicked into gear. Being an older dress, it had a delicate row of buttons to conceal the metal zipper, a lovely touch that showed Chanel had always paid attention to every detail and prevented her from dressing or undressing without help. “Just be mindful of the---” 

“Fifth button, yeah, I have apparently been warned” Jaime muttered and Sansa burst into laughter. She knew exactly who had warned him, just as Cersei had warned her when she helped her into the grown. She would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. 

She rolled away and turned her back so that he could work the buttons loose, fumbling only a little on the fifth button, and then he was sliding the zipper free and soon the dress was gaping at her shoulders. Jaime’s hands slid across her bare flesh, guiding the straps of the gown away. She carefully stood, allowing the material to slip to her waist, and then with a shimmy she rid herself of the expensive gown, carefully laying it across the settee. 

She turned back to find that Jaime had shed his coat, watching her intently as he untied his bowtie. 

“Well now” he smiled as she sidled closer. “You’re hardly wearing anything under there.” 

“I have lingerie, if you’d prefer” she stepped into the ‘v’ of his legs, raising her hands to unpin her hair. She wore only a pale pink pair of panties, a matching garter belt in place that held her stockings up. While the dress didn’t allow for a bra, she didn’t see why she couldn’t indulge herself in a pair of lovely stockings. 

“No, no” he assured her, his hands coming to settle on her waist, his thumb tracing the scar left behind by her surgery. “I much prefer this--or even naked.” 

“I am sure you do” she pulled the last of the millionth bobby pin from her hair and the curls fell free. She let the pins fall to the floor, deciding she would worry about them later because she had much better things to focus on right now. Things like the way Jaime’s hair had begun to break free of its style, falling across his forehead as he pulled her closer. 

“Tell me Sansa Lannister, what do you want to do on your first night as a married woman?” he asked. 

“Well, let’s see” she absently toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “Today has been eventful. I’ve already married the man of my dreams, cried in front of the entire reception and ate the most delicious cake” she popped a few buttons free. “I could tell you a secret?” she suggested. 

“A secret?” 

“My devil’s bargain for your Mother’s dress” she explained and he raised his brows in question. “Your sister asked me to promise that she would be the first to know if--when, I was pregnant.” 

“Did she?” his emerald eyes seemed to glow with happiness. 

“Apparently, she has a lot of planning to do for said event. Though I can't even imagine what that entails. So someday, my darling husband, you’re going to look at me across a crowded room and watch me tell her” Sansa promised. “I’ll keep my promise, but you’ll know at the same exact moment--it’s only fair.” 

“And when will that be?” 

“Depends on how good your aim is, Lannister” she retorted, working the last button loose on his shirt. 

“Come here” Jaime’s arms wrapped around her and dragged her back to the bed. His lips easily found hers and she let herself be lost to his kisses. The remainder of his suit fell to the floor, her panties and garter belt soon joining but Jaime left her stockings in place, running his hands over her legs, settling into the cradle of her legs. 

“Jaime---” she whimpered as his breath ghosted across her soaked pussy. 

“The first time I saw you, you were wearing a damned pencil skirt and stockings” he kissed her inner thigh, purposefully avoiding her folds. “Your legs went on forever and I couldn’t stop staring at them.” 

“I could have sued you” she teased. “Taken you for all you’re worth.” 

“You’re welcome to anything--what’s mine is yours, wife” he assured her quickly, his tongue swiping across her, sending lightning through her body. 

“Fuck!” 

“I wanted to throw you across the table in my office and bury my face in your pussy” he whispered, his lips barely touching her intimate flesh as they moved. An instant later, he was devouring her core, lapping and sucking at her, strong hands holding her thighs wide and pinned against the mattress.

In the back of her mind, she was grateful that they were secluded in the Easternmost wing of the estate, because she was not in a mood to stifle her whimpers and cries--and it seemed Jaime was of the same mind. He worked her without mercy, teasing and suckling in the right places that soon had her soaking wet.

Sansa’s hands shot above her head, holding tightly to the headboard as her husband showed no mercy in wringing pleasure from every fiber of her being. 

“Oh, fuck----Jaime!” she gasped, feeling her climax build deep within her core. It broke a few seconds later, her back arching and hips lifting as she screamed out incoherently. Her body felt as if it were floating, with no recognition of space or time--not until Jaime’s face appeared over her and she realized that he had shed all that remained of his clothing as she’d been lost to bliss. 

“Wife” his voice was deep, husky as he aligned himself with his soaked core and surged forward, filling her soaked channel. Sansa sighed in relief as he buried himself within her. Her thighs lifted, legs wrapping around him to hold him close, her hands still held to the headboard above her head, giving her perfect leverage to thrust her hips up against his. She’d been reduced to a puddle of lust, her eyes unable to part from his as he began to move. While it started slow, languid and near torturous, neither of them had the patience to move at half-speed forever. Soon Jaime’s hips were pistoning into her, over and over, his fingers digging into her hip, holding her in a bruising grip with each movement. 

“Jaime--fuck, Jaime please” she sobbed and mewled, feeling her body racing towards its peak again. 

“Come for me, wife--fuck I love watching you come apart” he growled, her body shaking with each thrust. She felt her control slipping and she moved one of her hands into his hair, grabbing it tightly to pull his lips to hers as she rode out her high, doing her best not to scream out too loudly.

Jaime was determined--damned determined to make their wedding night the best night of their lives. He wanted to rock his wife’s world, remind her why she had married him to begin with, but he was holding on by the skin of his teeth. He was surely going to fail miserably. That's alright, he assured himself, he had the rest of their lives to make it up to her.

He had been on the edge of control from the moment she’d laid her wedding dress across the settee. She was stunning in her pale pink panties and garter belt, her impossibly long legs in stockings that highlighted her porcelain skin. His wife was stunning in every way and he could hardly wait to take her--hence why he was about to come quickly--embarrassingly quickly, like a green boy. 

His entire body was pulled taut, close to shattering, and when Sansa’s core fluttered around his cock a third time he felt his grip on control slip and his peak clawed its way from his balls with a feral snarl. He gave a final few stuttering thrusts and slid deep to pour inside of her, coming harder than he had in a very long time. The air rushed from his lungs as his vision blurred and blood raced through his body.

“Fuck” he exhaled roughly, trying to catch his breath as he pulled back from their kiss, the smile on her face was the most beautiful thing in the world. He felt his cock twitching, softening and their mixed spend dripped from her body onto the coverlet. He smiled against her lips as her fingernails trailed down his scalp to his neck and shoulder. He loved the feeling of her touch, the way she showed her affection to him through every lingering touch and kiss.

“I love you” she whispered as his body slipped from hers and he settled beside her, his arms around her. 

“I love you, too” he placed a soft kiss on her swollen lips. He smoothed her hair back from her face, letting his fingers trail through the locks. “Sansa Lannister, at last.”

“At last” she agreed, and the way she snuggled closer, burrowing against his chest made his heart warm. His wife was in his arms, flushed and breathing heavily from their love-making. Life was, in this moment, perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the picsets for this story are available [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189074729641/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/) , [Ch.9 here](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189818577906/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/), [Ch.16 here](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/189983117246/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/) , [Ch.24 here](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/190360254116/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/) and [Ch.28](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/190728484586/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young/)  
Amazing picsets from; ['dmchnknst'](https://dmchnknst.tumblr.com/post/189310978700/inspired-by-the-magnificent-fic-sans-serif-by/) , ['sweetaprilbutterfly'](https://sweetaprilbutterfly.tumblr.com/post/189925661258/au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion-meets-his/) and ['birdebee'](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/190175827941/au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion-meets-his/)!


	30. Part 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few months into wedded bliss... (small time jump)
> 
> Well folks, brace yourselves....this is the last chapter of 'Sans Serif', only the epilogue remains now. This has absolutely been a wild ride. Starting this story, I had every intention of making it a one shot--as you can see that certainly didn't go as planned! It is now my longest and most popular story, and I couldn't have done that without your support. So thank you. 
> 
> I will be revisiting this universe in at least one companion piece, a Cersei & Robert one shot since we've all fallen for Boss Bitch Cersei in this fic, and eventually an alternative universe with Stannis the Mannis at the helm. Because reasons.
> 
> But, don't fret! I will be writing other stories and lots of other pairings! So bear with me as I wrap this bad boy up! xox

“San” the soft whisper of her husband’s voice broke into her slumber and she blinked her eyes open, the bright light of her computer screen abruptly blinding her. “Come on, baby.”

“Oh” she grumbled, realizing she had a post-it note stick to her temple, a side-effect of having fallen asleep at her desk. Again. 

“Bed time,” Jaime whispered, helping her to her feet to pull the note from her face and toss it onto the desk. 

“Save it?” she absently remembered and Jaime clicked a few keys on her keyboard to save the Adobe Illustrator file she’d been working in. 

“Come on,” he encouraged, leading her down the hall to their bedroom. They had turned the vacant room at the end of the hallway into a more professional and organized painting studio once Sansa had fully recovered and started working with Starfall. 

“What time is it?” Sansa yawned, stepping out of her slippers and collapsing across the bed. 

“Almost midnight” Jaime moved to her side of the bed and pulled the covers over her before rounding to his side and sliding in beside her. Elle was already settled at the foot of the bed, taking up more space than Sansa had thought possible for a cat to take. “You were in a groove and I didn’t want to stop you, but you can’t work all night again. Besides, sleeping in a chair is bad for your back.” 

“I know” she sighed sleepily, snuggling against him. “It’s almost over though, the show is in two weeks.” 

“I know” Jaime held her close. “You’ve been working your ass off since the day after we got back from Dorne.” 

And she had. For just over four months she had been working closely with Ashara Dayne to plan, design and create an entirely new collection for House of Starfall. It had required long hours and lots of back and forth, but she knew that it would be worth it when the designs were revealed to the public. 

The fashion world was already buzzing with excitement, news of it having even reached Cersei’s magazine ‘Icon’, which made Cersei beam with pride over her ‘sister’s’ accomplishments. That didn’t stop Cersei, however, for trying to get exclusives at every chance she had.

“Mmhmm” she agreed, resting her head on Jaime’s bare shoulder and letting her arm drape across his chest. He had already readied himself for bed and only wore his boxers, allowing her to steal his warmth, for which she was grateful. 

She had been doing her best to share her time between work and her husband, but sometimes she got carried away. Such was the danger of being an artist--or any sort of creative, time was often lost to the wind when you were focused on a design. 

She was pushing herself harder than she ever had before. She wanted to succeed, to make something of herself in the art world, even if she couldn’t avoid the fact that her last name was now ‘Lannister’ (which seemed to carry more weight than she’d anticipated). It was alright though, because Jaime would come reel her back in, he’d keep her grounded. If she lost track of time, he would gently pull her away from the desk or easel so they could snuggle on the couch or in bed, letting the contented peace surrounding them permeate their tired bones. 

In the meantime, Jaime had taken Casterly by the horns, stepping up both their marketing and design games, not stopping until they had all but given Stannis Baratheon and the board of directors at Stag, ulcers. Jaime was more than a little smug about this fact, grinning widely anytime Cersei mentioned that Robert was complaining about Casterly again. 

Tywin had confided in Sansa that he felt Jaime had a new sense of direction, a new determination and purpose that reminded the Great Lion--Papa Tywin, of himself at that age. Sansa would proudly smile at her husband, knowing that he worked damned hard, she was grateful he was able to enjoy the fruits of said work. 

The first few months of their marriage were, on the whole, utterly blissful. Bran and Tormund had returned to the Far North together, both of them determined to watch over Ned and Rickon and make sure that he was sticking to the straight and narrow. While she missed her little brother and his Wildling Man-Friend, Sansa was grateful to have the apartment to themselves to enjoy their newlywed status properly. And as luck would have it, they had only had to fish Elle out of Tormund’s bag twice to prevent her from being kidnapped--err, catnapped. 

As usual, however, Catelyn Stark had tried to put a dark stain on things. She had agreed to take the deal offered by the lawyers, but then she had proceeded to argue and second-guess every point and term, successfully delaying things over and over. Once news had reached Catelyn that Arya had given birth--and to twins no less, she demanded that she be able to see them as well, no easy task considering Arya was impossible to reach once news of her indiscretions reached the public’s ear. 

Fight after fight. Delay after delay. Sansa had started to lose hope that Catelyn would go quietly into the night, when the matter had been taken out of their hands entirely. Catelyn was not as skilled at controlling people inside of prison as she had been outside of it. Suddenly she found herself with enough enemies to ensure that, when she mouthed-off to the wrong person one too many times, she’d had her ass thoroughly beaten. It had been bad, from what Detective Bolton had told them, to the point where she had signed the plea agreement simply to be transferred to another facility and granted protective custody.

Sansa had sobbed with relief when it was finally, blessedly, all over. Jaime had held her in silence, knowing that words weren’t needed. It was done, they were free of it forever.

“Hey” Jaime whispered, his lips touching the crown of her hair. 

“Hmm?” she turned to look up at him, resting her chin on his chest to smile at her handsome husband. He had trimmed his hair, if slightly, after they returned from their honeymoon and it was back to falling over his forehead in that deliciously rakish way. 

“I love you, Lannister” he ran his hands through her hand, pushing it back over her shoulder. “But you work too hard and I am going to have to drag you on a vacation after this show.” 

“Sounds reasonable” Sansa smirked. “Will there be pizza?” 

“Lots of pizza” he agreed. “And lots of _pizza_.” 

“Sounds _very_ reasonable” she scooted closer, laying a leg over his to settle in between his thighs. “What about sunshine? Will there be sunshine?” 

“Absolutely” he trailed a hand down her back to cup her ass, hauling her closer. “I love seeing your porcelain skin and fiery hair in the sun.” 

“And beaches?”

“Lannisport has beaches” he countered and she gave an exaggerated pout. 

“No, real beaches.” 

“Are there fake beaches?” 

“Jaime” she pouted. 

“Alright, yes, beaches--real beaches.” 

“Good” she kissed him softly. 

“For a fortnight, at least” he reasoned. 

“At least” she agreed. 

“You’re going to be a famous fashion designer, soon enough I am going to have to steal you away from your adoring fans if I want to spend any time with you” he smiled. 

“Adoring fans, I have had enough _adoring_ fans already” Sansa laughed, shaking her head. “Ashara is trying to get me to sign an exclusive contract for design work. I don't know if I want to do it.” 

“Why not?” he asked, always genuinely interested in her reasoning. 

“Because I would like to be able to paint for myself” she explained. “To do my own work at my own pace. I like taking contract work, especially lucrative work like Starfall, but I also like being able to do the work and move forward. I am open to more contracts with her, but not an exclusive one.” 

“Makes sense” he agreed. 

“And I don’t want to be locked into a contract if...you know...” she snuggled her face into the curve of his shoulder and neck, soaking in his scent as a means to avoid finishing her sentence. 

“If what?” she felt him chuckling and she knew that he was teasing her. 

“I don’t want to wait forever to have children, you know that.” 

“Oh, I _know_” he agreed. “And I am definitely of the same mind.” 

“Well you’ve certainly proven that” she teased. “I have never seen you quite so dedicated to a task before.” 

“Be nice, Lannister” he rolled them quickly, pinning her beneath him. 

“I’m always nice, Lannister” she smirked up at him, shifting so that he could better settle against her. “Especially to you.” 

“That’s because I’m your favorite” he smugly declared and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Absolutely, my favorite husband so far” her teasing turned to laughter as he slid his hand under her shirt and tickled her side. 

“Take that back!” 

“No!” she laughed, trying to catch her breath and wiggle away from him. 

“Take it back” he said again, and she assumed he was smiling, she couldn’t see him through the tears in her eyes. 

“Fine!” she relented. “You’re my favorite husband ever!” 

“Good,” he slowed his fingers but didn’t move them away from her bare flesh, instead he slid his palm up her back, pulling her closer. 

“You sneak” she whispered the instant before their lips met. She would never, ever, get tired of kissing her husband. It was, by far, her favorite thing in the world to do. She sighed against his mouth as he rolled them to their sides, pulling her leg over his hip to rock against her core. 

“But I am your sneak” he mumbled against her lips and jaw. 

“Yes, yes you are” she mewled, her body lost to her husband’s seduction. 

“Thank you all, Ladies and Gentlemen, for being here tonight” Ashara stood on the center of the runway, looking every inch the polished fashion icon as she addressed the room. It was absolutely packed to the brim, something that Sansa hadn’t anticipated, but was pleasantly surprised to see. 

Photographers were crowded against every wall, surrounding the chairs that were filled with respected members of the fashion community from every corner of the world. Sansa sat at the end of the runway, Ashara’s vacant chair on one side and her husband sitting on the other. 

Jaime had been nearly as excited for tonight as she had, and now sat beside her beaming with pride, one arm around her shoulders and the other holding her hand on his knee. He had already told her a dozen times tonight how proud he was of her, how much he loved her and loved that she was chasing her dream. 

“The first moment that I met Sansa, I felt as if I had met a kindred spirit. She seemed to inherently understand what I was looking for, even when I wasn’t sure myself” Ashara smiled at her briefly before addressing the others gathered in the spacious room. “When I heard that she would be returning to her roots of brush and paint, I knew immediately that I had to have her skills at Starfall. It was fortunate for me that she agreed, thus the ‘Lost Lovers Collection’ has been born. There are two-dozen pieces in this collection, each one featuring stunning artwork on couture-cut kimonos and dresses--there’s even some men’s neckties in there at Sansa’s insistence. House of Starfall is proud to debut this collection tonight.” 

Ashara moved to the side of the stage and carefully stepped down, handing the microphone to a tech-worker and crossing to sit at Sansa’s side. 

“Ready?” Ashara smiled. 

“There’s no going back now” Sansa smirked and Ashara laughed softly. They really were kindred spirits, and Sansa greatly enjoyed working with her. They had clicked so easily, it made the collection a breeze to design. Ashara had understood when Sansa had declined her offer of an exclusive contract, but they had agreed to work again very soon. Currently, Sansa was working with a full roster of clients, everything from portrait paintings to corporate heraldry that had become a signature of sorts once the House of Starfall Anniversary designs went live.

Her favorite part, however, was that she could make her own hours and that at the end of every day, she was with her Jaime. She couldn’t ask for more than that.

The flashbulbs were nearly blinding, cameras constantly going off in desperation to capture every detail of the evening. Sansa knew that she and Ashara would be in every one’s eyesight tonight, and she was doing her best to keep her nerves at bay. This evening was going to be monumental, in several ways. 

“Here we go” Sansa whispered to Jaime as the music began and the models appeared. They were all clad in a simple black bodysuit that was covered by a silk robe, each one with Sansa’s paintings on the material. Scenes of lovers lost and lovers found, from every generation in Westeros’ history had been translated by Sansa’s hand and the final results were stunning. If she did say so herself. 

Sansa glanced around the crowd, watching everyone stare and talk to those beside them, several pointing at designs as they went by, all of them seeming to be impressed. 

She had worked hard to research details of history and fairy tales, weaving a story into each piece. From details hidden in the trim to the featured ‘lovers’ themselves, she had most-certainly over-analyzed every detail. It was worth it now to see every one’s reaction, to see the appreciation on everyone's face. 

Across the corner of the runway, Sansa looked to Cersei and her crew from ‘Icon Magazine’. Sansa had used her position with Starfall to pull a few strings for her good-sister, ensuring that ‘Icon’ had an unimpeded front row view of tonight’s show. Cersei’s minions were working hard to take photos and scribble notes as each piece ventured by. Cersei looked back to meet her gaze, giving her a smile and a nod, the best sign that the collection had Cersei Lannister’s seal of approval.

“You’re fucking fantastic, Lannister” Jaime leaned close to whisper against her ear, his lips just grazing her flesh. “I love you, and I am proud of you.” 

“I love you too” she whispered back, leaning against his side as they watched the remainder of the debut show. 

“You must be proud,” Oberyn Martell smiled at Jaime where they both stood at the large bar along the side of the reception. 

“I am, very much so” Jaime agreed, turning to face the Red Viper. As a leader in couture fashion--or jewelry rather, of course Oberyn would be here. Oberyn would never miss an opportunity to be surrounded by beautiful women.

Jaime had retreated to the bar to grab a drink for himself and Cersei, and from this vantage point he could see his wife and sister were still surrounded by admirers on the opposite side of the party. Everyone in the room seemed to be vying for Sansa’s attention, but their efforts were intercepted by Cersei’s fierce protection of her good-sister, for which Jaime was grateful. 

“She will be a great success” Oberyn said, thanking the bartender who handed him a small glass of Scotch. “Perhaps one day I can tempt her into working directly with Martell. She has something that 99% of people in this room don’t have--will never have.” 

“What’s that?” Jaime asked. 

“Talent” Oberyn smiled. “And the Lannister last name.” Jaime’s glare must have been more obvious than predicted, Oberyn immediately laughing in response. “She would have talent regardless, but she will also have a bit of reverence, which never seems to hurt. Especially since it seems that Cersei has taken to protecting her like a guard dog.”

“I will do you the favor of not telling Cersei you compared her to a dog” Jaime chuckled and Oberyn smiled in response. 

“I greatly appreciate that,” Oberyn acknowledged. 

“I am indeed very proud of Sansa, why wouldn’t I be?” Jaime thanked the bartender for his Whisky and Cersei’s wine. “While we feel her loss at Casterly acutely, it is my honor now as her husband rather than her boss, to watch her succeed on her own merits in an entirely new field.” 

“Jaime Lannister, devoted husband” Oberyn raised his glass and Jaime clinked it with his own, both men taking a sip. 

As he lowered his glass, Jaime turned back to see Sansa was now facing him, almost as if to deliberately catch his eyes. He gave her a small smile of encouragement and she raised a brow--that damned brow, in challenge. He watched her as she leaned down to whisper in Cersei’s ear, never breaking their eye contact. 

_No_ he felt his breath catch in his throat and he was certain his heart stopped beating. _It couldn’t….she couldn’t…could she?”_

Cersei’s cry of happiness drew them several strange looks, but Jaime couldn’t look away from where Cersei was now hugging Sansa tightly, bouncing with excitement in her designer heels. 

“Jaime---?” he barely registered Oberyn’s confused voice as he blindly set the drinks back on the bar and b-lined for his wife. The quickest path was directly across the runway, and he was going to take it. Nothing was going to get in his way. 

Hopping onto the platform, he ignored everyone’s stares as he crossed it, smoothly buttoning his suit jacket before hopping down and closing the distance in several steps. 

“Sansa?” he pulled her into his arms without hesitation. He held her off the ground, briefly spinning her around. 

“You told him?” Cersei accused Sansa as her arms wrapped around him. 

“Damn right I did” Sansa laughed, burying her face against his shoulder. 

“When?” he held her tightly, his eyes closed to conceal his emotions and block away those around them that were surely staring. 

“Just before Christmas” she whispered against his neck and he felt the hot sting of tears threatening to escape his eyes. 

“Oh Gods” he choked back a sob, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“That’s apparently why I’ve fallen asleep _literally_ everywhere the past few weeks” she explained. “Your child is already sucking all of my energy away.” 

“Worth, oh Gods is it worth it” he laughed, finally setting her on her feet. 

“I think so too” Sansa pulled back just enough to look up at him. 

“I love you” he stole a quick kiss. 

“I love you too” she smirked. “You know how I can prove it?” 

“How?” 

“I will let you be the one to tell both of the Papas about our Little Lannister,” she explained. 

“Perfect, I will gladly do so” he chuckled, stealing one last kiss before he wrapped an arm around her and they faced his sister who was smiley broadly. 

“I have so much planning to do” Cersei stated. 

“We both do” Sansa laughed in agreement.

“Oh Gods” Jaime felt light-headed as everything settled into his brain. “I’m going to be a ‘Dad’.” 

“Yes,” Sansa assured him. “Yes, you are.” 

“Holy shit” Jaime whispered. 

“He’s going to faint” Cersei scoffed. 

“He is not” Sansa countered, then looked nervously to him. “Don’t you dare faint.” 

“I won’t--at least, I think I won’t” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just...wow.”

“You’re telling me” Sansa beamed, kissing his chin. “‘Wow’ is the perfect word.” 

“Dad’s going to lose it” Cersei chimed in. While Tyrion and Tysha had welcomed a little boy several moons ago, a lovely little boy they’d named ‘Tyvan’, Tywin made no secret in their company that he was waiting for _Sansa_ to give him a little ‘Jo’. 

“Yeah he is” Jaime agreed. 

“Though, probably not to the extent of barging across a fashion runway in the middle of a Starfall party” Cersei smirked. Jaime merely laughed at his sister and shook his head. He didn’t care if he looked like an idiot, not when he was going to be a Father in a few moons--not when his Sansa was pregnant. Nothing could have stopped him from getting to her. 

“Jaime?” Cersei’s teasing voice broke into his cloud of happiness. “Did you forget my wine?” 

“Jaime!” Sansa giggled later that night in the dim light of their bedroom. 

“And I am going to teach you how to ride a bike,” he placed another kiss below her belly button. “How to throw a punch, and the quickest possible way to annoy Papa Tywin.” 

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Sansa chided. 

“I was always rather deft at it growing up, I imagine it will still be just as easy to push his buttons” Jaime chuckled. 

“What if it's a girl, hmm?” Sansa asked, running her hands through his soft hair. The moment they’d arrived home from the Starfall show, Jaime had carried her to their bedroom where they’d been secluded ever since. 

Their clothing lay forgotten on the floor, in bed it was just them, skin to skin, savouring their private celebration. Elle had settled herself on their clothing as soon as the warm fabric hit the hardwood floor, snuggled into Sansa’s dress and Jaime’s dress shirt to sleep. 

“Then Mommy will have to teach her how to wrap the ‘Great Lion’ around her finger” Jaime teased kissing the flesh over her hip bone. 

“I can certainly do that,” Sansa laughed, squirming against him. “Jaime--” 

“Patience, wife” he chided and she forced herself to relax against the pillows. Jaime was quite determined to shower a bit of love on their Little Lannister before he was willing to shower _her_ with a bit of love. 

She had barely been able to contain her secret once the doctor had told her two days ago. She had been all but bursting at the seams to tell Jaime, but somehow she managed to restrain herself, knowing that the big reveal at the show would be worth it. And it had. 

Watching Jaime storm across the room, across the runway, without a care in the world had been one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen. Her man was coming for her and he wasn’t about to let anyone stop him. It was glorious to watch. 

In the span of a few hours, he’d gone from ‘sinfully sexy’ to ‘proud papa bear’ and it was incredibly charming--however, she was really hoping that he would have given into their more baser urges for the evening. 

“Ten weeks, Gods, so perfect” he smiled up at her, the expression falling at the exasperation on her face. “Oh right” he cleared his throat and in a deft movement, parted her folds at lapped at her core with a flattened swipe of his tongue. 

“Fuck” she gasped in surprise and arousal, her back arching from the bed. Her hands that had been toying with his hair, dug to the roots and held tightly as he devoured her. She felt every lick, every suckle acutely and it served to key her up-up-up until she was sobbing with pleasure and Jaime’s hands were forced to pin her thighs to the bed in an attempt to keep her still. 

He worked without pause, not relenting until she was crying out in release, her body convulsing against his mouth. 

“Never let it be said” Jaime placed a kiss to her inner thigh. “That I don’t take care of my Baby Mama.” 

“Oh Gods” she laughed as she tried to catch her breath. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Why not? It’s true?” he smiled smugly as he crawled up the mattress over her. 

“I am more than just your ‘Baby Mama’,” she reasoned. 

“I know” he agreed, settling against her core. She reached between their bodies, wrapping her hand around the hard length of his cock, smiling as his eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck” he hissed, thrusting into her hand. 

“Now who’s just the ‘Baby Daddy’?” she smirked up at him and his eyes opened, filled with amusement as he looked down at her. 

“Fair enough” he agreed. “Still” he paused and before she could reply he had rolled to his back, taking her with him until she was astride his lap. “I like this view better.” 

“So do I” she ran her hand across his chest, teasing him with her fingernails. She ran her fingers down his torso to his cock, stroking him a few times before rising over him. She teased him for a few brief moments, running the head of his cock across her opening until she could see the muscles in his jaw were locked in an attempt to control himself. She couldn’t stop the smug smile from growing on her lips as she aligned him with her opening and slowly--torturously slowly, she sank onto him.

“Fuck” Jaime groaned, his hands going to her hips where his fingers dug into her flesh, anchoring them together as he thrust up against her. She sighed in relief at finally being joined with him, sliding her hands over his chest and the smattering of golden blonde hair across lean muscle. 

She slowly rocked against him, watching the play of emotions across his features--bliss and barely tethered control, admiring each one. From the first moment she laid eyes on Jaime Lannister, she had thought he was a handsome man. She never would have imagined, huddled in her cubicle at the bottom of the proverbial ladder at Casterly, that her future would bring her here. 

Married. Self-employed. Pregnant. Riding her husband--Jaime Lannister, into oblivion. Gods, she never could have imagined this. 

“There is one thing about this view, though” Jaime whispered as his hands splayed across her back, smoothing over the flesh and tangling with her hair. 

“What’s that?” she all but purred, idly grinding against him as she moved. In a flash, Jaime had rolled her to her back, settling over her on his elbows with his hands buried in her hair. He adjusted his hips, pushing impossibly deep with a firm thrust. 

“You’re always trying to torture me to death with your damned slow pace” his lips grazed hers as he spoke, sending little bolts of electricity through her. 

“Sometimes slow is good” she countered, lifting her legs to wrap around him. 

“Sometimes slow is just meant to drive me insane” he smirked down at her, moving only a slight bit faster than she had been, but with each thrust back into her, he made sure to grind against her in that sinfully delicious way that had her gasping in pleasure. 

“Jaime---please” she whimpered, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back and shoulders. Every movement of his body over hers only served to key her up--higher and higher she rose until she knew that she would break at any moment. 

“There it is” his voice was nearly a growl against her mouth. “I can feel you…so close” he balanced on one elbow and moved his fingers to her core, circling her clit as he kept his pace, in and out. Sansa could only cling to him, her body consumed by pleasure and when it broke, she sobbed as her body writhed against his. Jaime’s mouth claimed hers, kissing her deeply as his hips sped until he reached his own pinnacle, sliding deep and pouring into her with a growl. 

He broke their kiss, resting his forehead against hers as they tried to catch their breath. She lifted her hands to run them through his hair, letting her nails tease his scalp and silky locks. 

“I think” she smiled. “That trading that last slice of pizza for your cock was the best decision I ever made.” 

Jaime laughed, a soft breathy laugh that had his eyes shining as he rolled to his side, “I am inclined to agree--though I have to give some credit to the frog phone.” 

“True” she agreed. 

“Come here” he pulled her close, her body molding to his side as she lay her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her back, the other tunneled into her hair to guide her as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.” 

“I love you too” she nuzzled close and draped an arm over his chest, her body thrumming in residual pleasure. 

“Baby Mama” he whispered and she laughed, knowing that he was never going to relinquish her new pet name. She let her eyes drift shut as he kissed her temple, just another small way that he showed her that he loved her, that he cherished her everyday. Perhaps, she relented, being her husband’s ‘Baby Mama’ wouldn’t be so bad.


	31. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/611442772780728320/sans-serif-au-modern-in-which-the-young-lion/). Don't forget to check out ALL of the amazing picsets for this fic on tumblr! :) <3
> 
> This is it, the end we all knew was coming, but dreaded all the same. I am officially marking it 'complete'! It took me a while to decide how I wanted to wrap it up, but I think there is sufficient fluff here to appease the masses. Lots of family fluff and, of course, a little snarky-ness in there, but I hope you all love it!
> 
> I know that I have said it a hundred times before, but I am going to say it again because it is absolutely, 100% true; you are all amazing. All of my readers, commenters and kudos-ers, you're amazing. Your love and support of this story has been overwhelming and I am just blown away. When I started all of this, based on a prompt from 'dmchnknst', I had no idea that this was the journey I was setting out on. It was supposed to be a one shot, but I am eternally grateful that it got away from me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for making this story so successful and so loved. 
> 
> That being said, I extend a very special thank you to 'dmchnknst', whose simple prompt for "business competitor Jaimsa, complete with banter", set this train-a-goin'! Thank you for trusting me with your request! 
> 
> Stay tuned, since I have it on good authority that I will be revisiting this universe (its from myself, I promised myself, LOL). Cersei & Robert are begging to be revisited and there is the 'Stannis AU' that was demanded early on. As time allows, I will be adding to this universe (and will make it a small collection of its own).

“Robert, I swear on all that is sacred in this world if you eat one more of those cookies I am going to make you sit outside in the cold” Cersei glared at Robert from across the living area, the ferocity of her stare softened somewhat by the sleeping baby in her arms. 

“See what happens” Robert whispered to Sansa conspiratorially. “You domesticate a lion and this is the thanks you get” he chuckled, Sansa doing her best not to laugh out loud and stir Cersei’s ire. Especially since her good sister currently held her daughter in her arms.

“I wouldn’t call her domesticated. Maybe you just picked the wrong lion?” Sansa teased with a wink and Robert shook his head. 

“Fortunate for you, Jaime just isn’t my type” Robert smirked, sneaking another Christmas cookie from the cooling rack before returning to where Tywin, Kevan, Yohn and Tormund were relaxing on the leather couches in the family room. Tormund, of course, had Elle on his lap, snuggling the contented feline closely. He and Bran had travelled down from the Far North a few days ago and were enjoying being back in the city.

Sansa watched them for a moment, smiling at the ease with which they communicated. Though each man from a vastly different background, but still all closer than blood family could ever be. Across the room, Cersei and Bran were sitting with Tyrion and Tysha, talking softly as they watched Tyrion and Tysha’s son Tyrek play with his toys on the blanket on the floor. 

This Christmas was special, not only because they were all together, but because they were all together in the home that Sansa and Jaime had purchased together in the Northern tip of Lannisport. The house was a stunning colonial in the oldest part of town, only a few miles from Grandpa Yohn and easy enough to commute into the city from. 

Grandpa Yohn who had cried when Jaime told him the news that they were expecting. Sansa had never been hugged as tightly as Yohn had hugged her when they told him, her heart near to bursting with love for her Father. He had held her through so much sadness, it was amazing to be able to celebrate happiness together. He had promised that day to help them find the perfect home to raise a family in. he took that promise seriously, dutifully attending every inspection with them, putting his construction knowledge to work to make sure they were getting the finest home money could buy. It was through his connections with the historical society that they had found the house, and they all knew the moment they spotted it that it was perfect. 

Papa Tywin had reacted similarly, but he schooled his emotions quickly, gently kissing her forehead as he had at her wedding reception before clapping his son on the back with pride. He was already a Grandfather through Tyrion, but he was excited and emotional nonetheless. Shortly after they broke the news, he had begun researching college funds and the best schools to attend in the country.

So, this Christmas was indeed special and they had all gathered together to celebrate the season and the timely arrival of the newest little Lannisters. 

“San,” Jaime said softly, carrying another tiny bundle against his chest as he arrived in the kitchen. “Everything good?” 

“Of course, Yohn and Dorna did most of the cooking” Sansa assured Jaime, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel and leaving Dorna to the last of the Christmas dinner preparations. She stole a kiss from her husband before glancing to the precious bundle in his arms, half-asleep against his chest as usual. While Cersei held Joanna Leila Lannister, Jaime held Little Jo’s younger sister (by 17 whole minutes), Lynora Cersei Lannister. 

Imagine Cersei’s smug satisfaction at the news that Sansa carried not one, but two girls for her to spoil rotten. It had taken Sansa by surprise, the day the ultrasound revealed that she carried twins--like her estranged sister Arya (who had vanished from the edges of the earth after the scandal of her children consumed her) and Grandmother Minisa before her. Jaime, however, had almost fainted, stumbling back into the padded chair beside the exam table to catch his breath. 

Sansa had smiled through her tears of happiness at her husband, knowing full well that this was his ‘baby fever’ coming out in full force. Carrying twins during her first pregnancy had been an adventure, fortunately she had Tysha and Dorna to help and offer advice throughout the ‘ordeal’. She hoped that the next go-round would be a breeze with just one baby, though that was many years down the road. 

Still, before she had reached the ‘enormous’ stage, she had enjoyed being pregnant. She had even painted a mural on the wall of the nursery (cautiously, of course) making it a bright and airy room that was all soft yellows and lavender. It was the most satisfying thing she had ever painted, knowing that the room was going to be a haven for her girls. Unlike her childhood bedroom, this room would be warm and loving, filled only with happy memories.

Jaime had been damn near over-attentive during her pregnancy, hovering and over-helping during the day and marvelling at the changes their children--their daughters, had brought to her body. They would lay together in the evenings, catching up on the days news before his hand would settle over her stomach and he would talk to his children. Sansa would lay back and listen, her heart aching with love for the man who had changed her entire life. 

Imagine their surprise when, just a few days after the Thanksgiving holiday, Jo and Lyn arrived in the world, a little premature but both the image of their Lannister heritage. Jaime had preened with new-fatherly pride as he carried their daughters down the hospital corridor the day they were sent home, and Papa Tywin and Grandpa Yohn seemed just as smug. Jo and Lyn were the perfect additions to their unique family, and this Christmas was their first all together and the first in their _home_. 

In spite of Papa Tywin and Grandpa Yohn’s spoiling, Cersei was the worst offender by far. She had definitely gone overboard with gifts for her nieces, her growing army of Supermodels, and it was clear that she was loathe to surrender either of her nieces as soon as she had them in hand. The girls had no shortage of admirers, from ‘Uncle Robert’ who was surprisingly gentle with them, all the way up to ‘Uncle Tor’, whom Jaime joked was going to kidnap one, if not both of them at some point.

Bottom line was, their family was incredible. They had been through so much shit together, it was amazing now to settle into happier times. 

After their birth, Sansa had been flat-out exhausted, grateful to have the help of their entire family during the first few weeks. Fortunately all of her work, contract and commissioned, was done before the girls arrived, since it was all she could do to focus on caring for them the first few weeks. 

After the New Year, she would be working with House Starfall and Ashara once more to create a follow-up to the monumentally successful ‘Lost Lovers Collection’. The success of that line had immediately cemented Sansa’s name in the fashion world, and Ashara had made her promise that they would create another collection when she was ready.

She felt ready, her fingers were already twitching to wrap around her paint brushes again.

“Good” Jaime agreed, stealing a kiss of his own as the patter of clawed feet sounded on the kitchen’s hardwood. “Ever the guardian, eh pup?” Jaime smiled as Sansa broke away to pet the other new addition to their family, a golden retriever named ‘Leo’ who came with their new house. He had been a dirty, matted stray that was found calmly sitting on their front porch the day that they arrived with the moving trucks. He sat proudly, unafraid as if he were simply waiting for them to arrive, ready to help his new family settle in.

Sweet, gentle and well-mannered, Leo had obviously been someone’s pet but he decided that he was going to be a Lannister, and they didn’t have the heart to deny him. After doing their due diligence, searching for his previous owners, they made him an official Lannister, a mascot of sorts. Leo and Elle were the ever-watchful guardians of Jo and Lyn, always keeping the twins in sight. 

“He’s a good pupper, aren’t you, Leo? Such a good boy” Sansa smiled, scratching Leo’s ears as he sat beside Jaime’s feet, his wagging tail bumping ‘Dad’s’ legs with each movement. 

“Dinner is almost ready” Dorna said with a smile, talking softly to Lyn. “She looks just like Cersei when she was a baby.” 

“Don’t tell Cersei that” Jaime scoffed loudly. 

“Too late” Cersei walked into the kitchen, carrying a fussy Jo in her arms. “I heard that. And of course they look like me, they’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Not like I had any part in them or anything” Sansa scoffed, carefully taking Jo in her arms, smiling as the newborn began to root around. “We’re going to feed them and then we’ll join you at the table, if you could gather everyone?” she asked. 

“Of course, though I am sure that _some people_ have stuffed themselves with stolen cookies and are too full to eat dinner” she feigned a glare at Robert as he entered the kitchen. Robert only shrugged and sipped his whisky, smiling indulgently in the way that he always did at Cersei. 

Admittedly, Sansa was surprised that the two hadn’t eloped by now. They had stopped hiding their ‘affair’ almost a year ago and yet they still seemed determined to avoid a matrimonial fate. They attended every family event and holiday together, but carefully skirted any questions or marriage or children of their own, claiming they were more than happy to be the ‘cool Aunt and Uncle’. Perhaps someday, she smiled to herself, carrying Jo from the kitchen while Jaime followed with Lyn. 

“Hey! Come back!” Sansa heard Tormund’s protests a moment before Elle appeared beside Leo, both guardians following them up the stairs and down the familiar path to the nursery. As was routine, Jaime helped her to situate herself on the padded window seat, both girls on her lap as they happily ate their Christmas dinner at her breasts--breasts that were grateful for the relief of the hungry babes. Jaime sat beside her, his arm around her back as they watched their little lions.

These moments had become her favorite in the world. In the peace and quiet of their home, they could admire their girls and lose themselves in the love that overflowed from their little family. Even Elle and Leo had curled up at their feet, watching the door as if to ward off any intruders on the private moment.

“I don’t think the girls look like Cersei” Jaime said softly. “They’re beautiful like their mother, who is the most beautiful woman in the world” he reached out to smooth his fingers over the downy soft hair on Jo’s head. While Jo had golden hair, Lyn’s seemed to be a bit redder and Sansa hoped that it would come in just as red as her own. 

“They are beautiful, I can hardly believe we made such perfect little beings” Sansa agreed, her body relaxing against her husband’s. “They’re worth every ounce of bulls--pain we ever had to deal with to get here.” 

“Absolutely” Jaime agreed. “Though, if it was an option, I would rather do without the whole ‘hit by a car’ thing.” Sansa laughed softly, turning to kiss his cheek. While his hair was shorter now than when they had wed, this winter he decided to combat the colder weather with a beard, and she loved the grey that had begun to show in the stubble. Jaime had threatened to shave it all off, but Sansa begged him to keep it and of course he indulged her. 

“I suppose so,” Sansa said in agreement. “Though I would endure it a thousand times if it meant I would end up right here, in your arms.” 

“Right here with my girls” Jaime held her tightly, resting his chin on her shoulder. “All my girls.” Sansa smiled, Christmas music reaching her ears meaning someone had turned on the radio downstairs. The sweet tune danced on the air, mixing with the voices of all their loved ones gathered downstairs, surrounding her with a cloud of happiness. The road had certainly been rough, but this made it all worth it. 

She had her husband, her girls, her family...what more could she possibly ask for? 

“Excuse me, Miss. Lannisters?” Jaime knocked on the open door as he entered his Father’s office. As he spoke, the two girls looked up from behind the Great Lion’s desk, smiling brightly at him with identical smiles. 

“Daddy!” Jo dropped from the chair, Lyn right behind her as they ran to greet him. Jaime easily scooped them up, his ‘Dad strength’ kicking into gear as Sansa would say, catching Papa Tywin’s indulgent smile as he greeted his girls. 

“You act like I was gone for weeks” Jaime laughed, noisily kissing their cheeks. 

“You were gone forever!” Lyn sighed dramatically, her expression so much like Sansa’s that he almost burst out laughing. 

“Forever,” Jaime scoffed. He had only been in a meeting for forty-five minutes, but still he was glad to see they missed him. “Did you have fun with Papa Tywin?” 

“Yes!” they answered, nodding their heads. While they were both the image of Cersei and Grandma Jo, identical in almost every way, while Jo’s eyes had turned emerald green, Lyn’s had stayed bright blue, even as her hair grew into a darker strawberry blonde. 

“They’ve been hard at work, taking over Casterly in your absence” Tywin explained and judging by the mess of his desk, Jaime could see that they had had a wonderful time coloring on his ledger. 

“Thank you for watching them,” Jaime said. “Alright girls, grab your things, Mommy will be here any minute and then we’re all going for pizza!” He set them on their feet and they immediately began gathering the toys and coloring books that had exploded in Tywin’s office.

“Of course, I love having them around” Tywin smiled at the girls. “They are simply delightful.” 

“Energetic, you mean” Jaime smiled. They were almost five now, every bit their mother in personality, meaning they were outgoing and could easily charm anyone in their acquaintance. He could hardly blame the world at large, he was rather inclined to believe that his girls were the most beautiful in the world. 

“That too” Tywin smiled indulgently. 

“Still on for dinner tonight, right?” Jaime asked. 

“Of course, I will be there” Tywin smirked. “I have to make sure to remind Yohn that he is the oldest one of the bunch.” 

Jaime laughed, “Oh I am sure that will go over great” he agreed. “Just try not to call him ‘Grandma Yohn’ in front of the girls this time, eh?” Tonight they were celebrating Yohn’s birthday at the house, a party that the girls were greatly looking forward to. Just as Yohn had indulged Sansa in every creative pursuit she could imagine, he indulged Jo and Lyn in their every whim. While it was Yohn’s birthday, he was certain that Grandpa Yohn would show up with gifts for all of the grandchildren, including Tyrion and Tysha’s son Tyrek and daughter Tyva, who he had adopted as his own as well. 

“I make no promises--though I didn’t buy him knitting needles….this time” Tywin shrugged as footsteps sounded in the hall. 

Jaime turned just as Sansa appeared in the doorway, the tiny sleepy form of Little Ty on her hip. Tywin Yohn Lannister, affectionately ‘TY’, was eight months old and Jaime was proud to say, his little clone. Named for both of his Grandfathers, Ty was handsome and charming, another Great Lion in the making. 

“Mommy!” the girls squealed in greeting, running around her legs to relay stories of the day. 

“You can tell me all about it over pizza” Sansa smiled down at them before handing Ty to Jaime. Ty immediately snuggled against Jaime’s bearded cheek once Jaime had placed a soft kiss on his head. Ty was his little buddy, both of them content to watch the outrageous antics of the girls and relax together on the couch.

If you would have told him, seven years ago, that he would be a happily married father of three, a man who had taken charge of Casterly and thoroughly knocked Stag into second place, he wouldn’t have believed it. He had been too busy being a wild bachelor, running from his responsibilities and his Father’s expectations, but he hadn’t been able--or willing, to run from Sansa.

From the moment she had walked into his office, everything had changed. His life, his career, his future, all of it had suddenly become a lot brighter. In truth, he loved being a husband just as much as he enjoyed being a father. He would sleep beside the love of his life every night, and wake to the giggles of their children most mornings. Of course, some mornings they set their alarm early to enjoy each other fully before they tackled the day’s activities.

“How’d it go?” he asked Sansa softly, stealing a quick kiss as the girls returned to gathering their things. 

“Great, Ashara has already received word that everything is receiving pre-orders, despite it not even being revealed yet. Stores don't want to miss out on the release” she smiled. Sansa had more than built a name for herself in the art and fashion world, with the partnership she had forged with Ashara and House Starfall, their collections seemed unstoppable. Not to mention her private painting commissions fetched a hefty price on the primary and secondary market. Today she had been to a final meeting before the next collection’s debut next week, they had ‘divided and conquered’ the children, as they usually did and with a little help from Papa Tywin, had everything covered. 

“That’s definitely good news” Jaime wrapped his free arm around her waist. “We should celebrate with _pizza_” he smirked. 

“Of course, later” she winked just as the girls slung their princess backpacks on and announced that they were ready for lunch. “Say goodbye to Papa Tywin and be sure to thank him, we’ll see him later at Grandpa Yohn’s birthday party.” 

“Goodbye, Papa Tywin. Thank you! Love you!” the girls said in unison, turning back to their Grandfather to kiss his cheeks. 

“You’re very welcome,” Tywin hugged them briefly before returning to his full height. “I love you and will see you all this evening.” 

“No knitting needles” Sansa said softly, kissing Tywin’s cheek with a smirk. 

“None” he assured her and with a laugh, they were headed out the door. Jaime gave a smile to Podrick, now a senior designer, as they made their way to the elevator, and the younger man replied with a small salute that made Jaime laugh. 

Piling into the elevator, he quickly stopped the girls from pressing all of the buttons on the wall, turning to steal a kiss as the doors closed. 

“Hello handsome,” Sansa said softly. 

“I love you” he smiled. 

“I love you too” she said back as the elevator began its descent. “But I need a nap.” 

“You and me both” he laughed softly. “After pizza.” 

“After _pizza_” Sansa agreed with a lecherous smirk, one that had him looking forward to their afternoon nap. 

The elevator doors opened with a ding and they followed the bouncing and skipping of their daughters out into the Lannisport summer sunshine. He’d walked this path many times in his life, the sidewalk as familiar as an old friend, but his favorite times were when he walked them with his family. His girls beside him, his son in his arms, all was right in the world. 

And he couldn’t ask for more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!

**Author's Note:**

> Check out these amazing Picsets from ['dmchnknst'](https://dmchnknst.tumblr.com/post/189310978700/inspired-by-the-magnificent-fic-sans-serif-by/) , ['sweetaprilbutterfly'](https://sweetaprilbutterfly.tumblr.com/image/189925661258) and ['birdebee'](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/190289770636/jaimsa-modern-au-sansa-couldnt-wait-for-the-day/)!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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